


Don't Deny The Animal

by nerdy_farm_girl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Stiles/Malia, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Cu Sith, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Lydia is a BAMF, Pack Cuddles, Post S4, Scott McCall is a Good Alpha, Vampires, background Scott/Kira, brief braeden/derek, kira kicks ass, lydia & isaac friendship, lydia & parrish friendship, mentioned isaac/danny, there's something stalking lydia, underage drinking mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_farm_girl/pseuds/nerdy_farm_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek could hear them coming a mile down the road. The unmistakable sound of Stiles’ jeep and four strong heart beats barreling towards him. He was able to identify them as they climbed the stairs. Scott and Isaac first, his nose conditioned to pick their werewolf-ness out of a crowd. And then Stiles, easily identifiable by his slightly erratic heartbeat and obnoxious voice. The fourth took him a moment, and then suddenly the smell of her perfume hit him like a freight train, his eyes flashing blue without permission. Lydia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely and wonderful [Amy](http://thebreakingillusion.tumblr.com)
> 
> Hey I'm back! This story is still in progress, but I am currently about half way done (woo hoo)! I will try and post new chapters once a week (I am expecting maybe 10 chapters total). This is supposed to be kind of dark but as many of you know, I have a hard time writing anything but fluff. CHECK THE TAGS FOR BACKGROUND RELATIONSHIPS :)
> 
> [According to my understanding of the (horrid) Teen Wolf timeline, Lydia would be turning 18 in March of Junior year (she has her license in s1, which means she would have had to already be 16). So in this story she is 18/19.] 
> 
> Please let me know if I should add anything to the tags.
> 
> Title from Animals - Maroon 5 (the inspiration for this fic)

It was never like this for his Mom.

She could seamlessly turn from human to wolf and back again, her hair barely ruffled. Her control on the full moon was impeccable; there were months that she didn’t even _have_ to shift.

Laura was good at it too. She was always a little dazed afterwards, but only for a few seconds. And after the first couple months it was completely natural.

Neither of them ever had to be locked up on a full moon.

“You know I hate doing this to you, right?” Braeden brushed her fingers through Derek’s hair, her face full of concern. But Derek could still hear the tiny blip in her heart beat. He knew she only liked doing it because it kept him safe, and kept him with her.

“Of course,” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before pulling away. The heavy basement door creaked as Braeden pulled it shut, the sound of the dead bolt sliding across like a pound of lead in his chest. This is what his life had become.

It had been almost a year since he had left Beacon Hills. He hadn’t returned following the show down in Mexico, choosing instead to join Braeden on her hunt for the Desert Wolf. It had been fun at first. Derek felt like an FBI agent, sleuthing for clues during the day and hyped up on adrenaline and sex at night. They spent a month in Arizona, two in Texas, a couple of weeks in New Mexico. Somehow they had ended up in Wyoming, renting a little cabin in the woods. Being with Braeden, dating her, loving her, playing house with her, it was easy and fun and simple. But there was a part of him that wasn’t happy. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, something nagging in the back of his head. The wolf side of him couldn’t settle down.

Scott called him every Thursday afternoon at four. Without a fail the young alpha’s name would appear on his phone, and Derek would be lying if he said he didn’t smile. They had both come a long way from their first tenuous meeting two years ago. Scott McCall really was his brother now. The kid wasn’t even a legal adult yet, but he would trust him with his life. Scott would fill him in on the happenings in Beacon Hills, ask him for advice on various matters, and tell him all the stupid scenarios that the rest of the pack have managed to get themselves into. On several memorable occasions Stiles would force Scott to put the phone on speaker, and the conversation would be totally derailed by sarcasm and what Derek imagined to be lots of flailing around. Braeden had caught Derek grinning like a loon while listening to Stiles and Scott squabble more than once. Isaac had returned from France for his senior year. According to Stiles, he had adopted an annoyingly fake French accent and wore fluffier scarves. Derek didn’t believe a word of that, since he talked to Isaac every once in a while by phone, and they texted pretty often. Even if Derek wasn’t his alpha any more, there was still a connection between the two of them. There would be forever.

Even with all that he still felt like something was wrong, something was missing.

His first full moon after Mexico had been a disaster. They’d been camped out in the middle of the desert somewhere in Arizona, living out of the back of Derek’s car. As soon as darkness fell he’d shifted into a wolf, taking off into the night. It was _awesome_. Everything was clear and his worries were gone and it was like he could run for miles. And he did. The next morning he woke up twenty miles away, buck naked and baking in the Arizona sun. It took almost a whole day to find his way back to Braeden, shifting in and out of wolf form to hide his lack of clothing. He thought it was a one-time thing, or just part of getting used to the full shift.

Except it kept happening. Month after month he’d take off on the full moon, just running. By the time summer came around Braeden had figured it out.

“You’re running home.” She told him in her matter-of-fact way. “Do you want to go back?” Derek shook his head and brushed it off. He didn’t need to be in Beacon Hills. The pack was doing just fine without him, Parrish had agreed to keep an eye on the loft, and Cora was safe with her new pack somewhere in South America. Everything was fine.

The fact that he had no memories of the nights he ran didn’t help anything. He would get snapshots, like movie stills of the scenery he’d run through, the people or animals he’d come across. But there wasn’t anything else to go on, no action or feelings or thoughts. It was confusing to say the least.

In July Braeden had started locking him in a room on the full moons. They were staying only miles outside of a major city in Colorado, and Derek wasn’t looking forward to waking up naked surrounding by gawking people. So he’d booked three motel rooms in a row and ordered her to lock him in the middle one. He would’ve destroyed it if he hadn’t made Braeden line the entire thing with mountain ash. The whole thing made him feel extremely vulnerable, and he could only imagine what Scott and Stiles and Cora would say to him if they knew. Which was why he never told them. Scott knew something was wrong, but he never pushed Derek on it. There were still some boundaries the alpha wouldn’t cross.

It was the end of February now, and the ground outside the cabin was buried in a foot and a half of snow. Derek hated it here. He hated the snow, hated the dreary skies, and hated how polite the people in town were. He was sick of eating tomato soup and peanut butter and jelly, and he hated having to keep a fire going each night just so they could stay warm. But he didn’t want to go home. For some reason going back felt like admitting defeat, as if he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from the hell known as Beacon Hills.

The next morning there were deep claw marks in the cement walls and he’d managed to dig through the floor in the corner. His nails were caked with dirt and blood, and the clothes he’d been wearing were torn to shreds. He could hear Braeden’s footsteps overhead, and soon the deadbolt was sliding open. Freedom.

“Dude.” Braeden eyed him over her coffee cup, sweatpants clad legs tucked up under herself. Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t call me dude.”

“You don’t seem to mind when it’s Scott or Stilinski,” she smirked at him. Derek didn’t bother telling her that he tried getting them both to stop, but the two idiots literally can’t speak without ‘dude’, ‘yo’,’man’ and ‘like’ being overused. “You should go back to Beacon Hills.” He stared at her for a moment, not sure if he should be offended by that suggestion or not.

“Do you not want me here?” He mumbled, glaring hard at the black coffee in his mug.

“Don’t be stupid Derek,” Braeden snorts. “This has nothing to do with me.” Derek flicked his eyes up to hers, catching her warm gaze. He wondered when it stopped affecting him so much, the way she looked. There was no doubt that Braeden was beautiful, hell, she was one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen, right up there with his mom, Paige and Lydia Martin. But he’d gotten comfortable with it, comfortable with her, used to the way she talked and smelled and kissed. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time they’d had sex. “You need to go home.”

“They don’t need me there.” Derek studied the grain of the wood in the kitchen table, not wanting to see the condescending look he knew she was giving him.

“Maybe you need them.” Braeden’s voice was so quiet that he probably wouldn’t have heard her if not for the whole supernatural hearing thing. “Wolves need their pack, don’t they?”

“I’m not technically in their pack…”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t miss them. It’s pretty obvious to me that deep down, all you want is to be back with the little family you created in Beacon Hills.” Derek smelled the sadness rolling off of Braeden in waves, but that didn’t stop him from asking his next question.

“But what about you? And us?” He finally meet her eyes, hating the tiny smile on her face as she stiffened her jaw.

“I love you Derek, but I just don’t… I think that there’s someone else out there for each of us. It’s almost too easy, you know?”

Derek swallows the lump in his throat and nods. He knows it’s true. The fact that his wolf wasn’t freaking out inside of him right now was the biggest piece of evidence. All his wolf wanted was to go _home_.  

“I packed your clothes for you last night.” Braeden continued, her voice barely wavering. “I know how you are, you’ll drag your feet and try to talk yourself out of it. But you need to go home. You can always find me again if you want.” Derek rolled his eyes at her one last time before pushing himself up from the table.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“I was on my own for years before I met you. I can handle myself.” Derek smiled at her. If there was anything he knew for certain right now, Braeden could rough it all on her own. He strode to their bedroom and grabbed his duffle bag off the floor, shoving his phone and wallet into the pockets of his jeans. He took one last glance around the bedroom he'd shared with Braeden for the past four months, the smile on his face never slipping. He was going home.

 

* * *

 

 

"Well, those are the last of 'em Lyds." Stiles let the blue post office box close with a loud clang. "Now all we have to do is wait!" Lydia studied him for a moment, wondering exactly how snarky she should be.

"Cause you're just so patient Stilinski." He clutched at his heart, face contorted with pseudo pain.

"Like ice to the heart Lydia! Ice I say!" Ignoring him, she headed back towards the jeep, heels clicking loudly on the black top. "I can't believe Scotty didn't want to be a part of sending off his last college application."

"Probably because these ones were literally for Beacon Hills Community College, and every single one of us will undoubtedly be accepted. Remember the algorithm me and Danny made over winter break?"

"It's still like a momentous occasion, you know?" Stiles paused at the door of his jeep, eyes suddenly cautious. Lydia hated seeing how much Stiles had changed, hated seeing through the facade. He put on a good show, acting like he was still the goofy, hyperactive teenager that played the bench on the lacrosse team. It was sad, awful even, how much they'd all been through. "You sure you don't want a ride? It's no problem."

"My house is right there Stiles, and you live in the opposite direction." Lydia smiled at him gently, tightening her grip on the strap of her bag. "I think I can handle it." Stiles looked like he wanted to argue, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

"Ok. Ok." He sighed and opened the door of his jeep. "Just... Text me once you're safe in your house ok? Please?"

"Of course," she squeezed his bicep in reassurance. "See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

She took off down the sidewalk, eyes trained on the street light at the end of her driveway. Two years ago she wouldn't have thought twice about walking the quarter mile down the street in the dark. But now... Who knew what was lurking in the shadows. Breathing deeply through her nose she trudged onward. It was fine. She didn't feel like she needed to scream, she was fully aware of where she was going. Things were good. There hadn't been any problems of the supernatural kind in months.

A twig snapped, and Lydia whipped her head to the right, staring into the hedge that lined the street. Nothing. Her steps sped up on their own as she struggled to control her heartbeat. It was nothing. She shouldn't be worried. Breaking into a jog, she made it to her house in record time, only pausing once she reached the porch. She'd made it.

Lydia glanced over her shoulder before closing the front door, squinting towards the end of her driveway. A fog had settled over the area, the street light making everything glow eerily. Her heartbeat stuttered as a shadow appeared in the fog. It looked like a giant dog was watching her, eyes glowing unnaturally in the darkness. And then she blinked, and it was gone.

She slammed the door shut, leaning against it and squeezing her eyes closed.

"I'm just going to pretend that never happened." She slid the deadbolt across the door before pushing herself back up onto her tip toes and peering through the glass. The driveway was blessedly empty. It was just a figment of her imagination. That's all.

 

The next morning Lydia tried not to think about the events of the night before. By the time she’d made it into her car, she had convinced herself that the giant dog was all made up. She’d just psyched herself out, that’s all.

And then she saw the gigantic paw prints in the grass at the end of her driveway.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Lydia groaned, pulling out into the street and heading for Kira’s house. Maybe this wasn’t anything to worry about. Maybe it was really just a giant stray dog. It’s eyes were just reflecting in the street light last night. That’s all. It had probably just heard her walking home and thought she had food. Or maybe it had smelled the curly fries that Stiles had in the back seat of the jeep, and followed Lydia in hopes that she had some. Or maybe it had smelled Prada on her clothes, and thought that if she had one dog she could take in another. Or maybe…

“Are you alright?”

Lydia jumped in her seat, hand pressing to her hammering heart. She hadn’t even realized that she’d made it to Kira’s house, never mind that her friend had gotten into the car with her.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just zoned out a little.”

“Are you sure? You look a little… stressed? It’s not happening again, is it?” Kira’s face was full of concern as she leaned towards Lydia across the center console.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lydia forced a smile, backing carefully out of Kira’s driveway. “Just thinking about colleges and stuff.” Kira didn’t look like she quite believed her, but she smiled and nodded anyways. That’s what Lydia liked about her. Kira didn’t push boundaries; she could tell when she didn’t want to talk about something and she left it alone. If it had been Stiles or Malia in the car with her, God knows the questioning would have been endless. “Are you ready for your calc test?”

“Ughh, I hope so!” Kira leaned back into the seat. “Scott and I were studying till like eleven last night…” Lydia watched as a faint blush appeared on her friend’s cheeks.

“Were you studying or **_stud_** _-ying_?” Kira squeezed her eyes shut, blushing all the way to the roots of her hair.

“Oh my God! Lydia!”

“What? I can’t have you failing your classes just ‘cause McCall’s flexing his biceps or flashing his stupid smile at you.”

“His smile’s not-” Kira stopped with a huff when she noticed Lydia’s smirk. “Cause you’ve never been distracted by a guy or anything.”  

“Who me?” Lydia grinned at Kira before looking back at the road. “I’m an accomplished multi-tasker sweetie. Tell Scott you need to study by writing equations on his abs.”

“Oh my God. You’re so embarrassing.” Kira sunk further into the seat. “Let’s talk about something else, anything else. _Please_.”  Lydia just chuckled quietly, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Kira said something else incriminating. The girl was adorably innocent, and Lydia loved her.

It was strange how life worked. Lydia had never been all that close with girls to begin with. The exception was Allison, too naive to know about Lydia’s carefully curated Bitch Persona, and far too loyal to leave after that. Allison was the only person she’d ever really considered her best friend. But now things were different. She considered Scott and Stiles to be her best friends. They had been through a lot together, more than any normal teenagers should have to go through. Stiles understood her intelligence, her snark, and her crippling fear of not being able to protect anyone. In those ways they were the same. Scott was her best friend in every meaning of the phrase. He helped her through her grief, held her in his arms when she was upset, and pushed her to continue on with her life and school when all she wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry. Scott was there for her no matter what, and the complete and utter trust he displayed in her was something that Lydia would forever cherish. Two years ago she never would have given Scott McCall a second look. Now, his was the first face she looked for when they arrived at school. All she needed was a simple nod, and she knew that everything was going to be okay.

The rest of the pack was exactly that, pack. Lydia loved them all for their idiosyncrasies, their annoying little ticks. Kira was the easiest to be around. She was sweet and quiet and trusting. She was a calming presence for Lydia. When Isaac returned it had been awkward at first, but it’s better now. He’s usually the one Lydia ends up snuggling with on Scott’s couch, her face pressed into one of his stupid scarves while they watch a movie. She can only take Malia in small doses. Lydia will readily admit she does NOT have the patience of a saint, and Malia deserves all the patience in the world. She doesn’t know how Stiles does it. But Malia is getting used to social norms, and she seems to enjoy Lydia’s fashion advice, so that’s a plus. Liam and Mason are like the little brothers she never wanted, but its fun to embarrass them whenever she has the chance.

And Lydia is happy with what she has. Maybe it would have sucked less if she didn’t have to watch a creepy lizard thing turn into her boyfriend and then turn into a werewolf. The tragic events of getting bitten by a werewolf, turning into a banshee, and _feeling_ your best friend lose their life were probably things no one ever needed to experience. But Lydia knew who she was now. And she was going to make the best of it.

“Why are you three lurking by my car?” Lydia raised an eyebrow, trying not to smirk at the slightly guilty expressions on Scott and Isaac’s faces. Stiles, of course, just looked utterly delighted. “No seriously, why are you guys waiting for me? Is something going on?” It made her uneasy. The last time all three of them had been waiting by her car after school, they’d just found out that a witch has taken Mrs. McCall hostage.

“No, no, nothing’s wrong!” Scott was almost beaming now, and Lydia felt herself smile in response. “I just have this feeling, I’m pretty positive anyways, you know, alpha senses and all, but I think Derek’s back! And we thought you might want to come with us.”

Lydia nodded, letting herself be led to Stiles’ jeep. It was like a little pinprick of warmth had been planted in the center of her chest, and it was slowly radiating outwards. She hadn’t seen Derek in almost a year. They hadn’t been particularly close, but the last time she’d been face to face with him, she had quite literally predicted his death. He hadn’t returned to Beacon Hills, and it almost felt to Lydia like he wasn’t really alive.

It seemed like centuries ago that she had been holding teenage Derek’s hand in Deaton’s clinic, or having Derek actually _listen_ to her tell the story about her grandmother. He had seemed… softer, more Zen. She didn’t know why, but she _needed_ to see him. Alive and breathing and even glaring at Stiles. Because that would mean that things were back to normal. As normal as they could be.

“He’s here! I can smell him!” Isaac was basically bouncing in the back seat, looking happier than Lydia had ever seen him.

“Okay, that’s still creepy dude.” Stiles made a face in the rearview mirror as he parked in front of Derek’s loft. Shaking her head Lydia hopped out of the front seat, pulling it forward so that Scott could scramble out. The boys’ excitement was contagious, and Lydia found herself bounding up the steps after them, her purse and books abandoned in the jeep and a smile stretching her face. For some reason, this felt like the missing puzzle piece.

 

* * *

 

Derek could hear them coming a mile down the road. The unmistakable sound of Stiles’ jeep and four strong heart beats barreling towards him. He was able to identify them as they climbed the stairs. Scott and Isaac first, his nose conditioned to pick their werewolf-ness out of a crowd. And then Stiles, easily identifiable by his slightly erratic heartbeat and obnoxious voice. The fourth took him a moment, and then suddenly the smell of her perfume hit him like a freight train, his eyes flashing blue without permission. _Lydia_.

He didn’t know why his inner wolf was suddenly rearing his head, or why he suddenly wanted to shift and run until he found Lydia and curled himself around her protectively. The door to his loft was thrown open, and Derek hastily tamped his instincts down as three teenaged boys hurdled towards him.

“Ooof!” They tackled him onto the couch, seeming unperturbed by the cloud of dust settling around them. “I take it you guys missed me?” Derek huffed, unable to hide the genuine smile on his face. It felt _good_ , to be missed, to be loved. And that’s what it was. Love. There was no denying the affection radiating from Scott, Stiles and Isaac, their bodies a tangle of limbs and laughter.

“Of course we did Sourwolf,” Stiles smirked. “We could barely function without your sunny disposition.” He was thinking of a sarcastic response when his attention was drawn back to the fourth teenager in the room. Lydia stood just inside the door, her eyes wide and her hands fisted at her sides.  She was staring at him, something that might have been relief rolling off her in waves.

“You okay Lyds?” Scott untangled himself from the pig pile, moving towards her in a way that displayed just how in tune to each other they are.

“Yeah,” Lydia nodded, a piece of hair falling out of her braid as she braced herself against the door. “I just…” Her eyes landed on Derek. “The last time I was here, the last time I saw you… I thought… I just…”

“Come here.” The words escaped before Derek could stop them, but she ran towards him, slipping into the spot the Scott vacated. And then Scott’s squeezed back in too, all five of them breathing in sync. Derek was finally home.

“We’re going to have a welcome home party for you.” Stiles announced a few minutes later, his feet propped confidently up on the coffee table. Just for old time’s sake Derek pushed them off, leveling Stiles with a glare.

“No. You are not.”

“Dude! Everyone else will want to see you too! Obviously just the Original Squad came today, since you know, Scott’s wolfie senses were going off and we weren’t sure if you were home. But come on dude, this is like cause for celebration!”

“Or you’re looking for an excuse to party…” Derek grumbled good naturedly.

“Did you just call us the Original Squad?” Lydia cut in before Stiles could answer, looking like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Why would you even acknowledge him?” Isaac groaned, slumping until his head rested on Lydia’s shoulder. It’s different, the dynamics they have now. But a lot can change in a year.

“You like that? I thought it was better than my last couple.” Stiles grinned as Scott and Lydia shared an exasperated look.

“Don’t ask Derek. Please. For our sanity.” Scott pleaded, putting the puppy dog eyes on in full force. But Derek couldn’t help himself. He’d missed this.

“Your last couple?” He directed the question towards Stiles with a raised eyebrow, holding back a smirk as the other three groaned.

“Okay, so I started off with the Beacon Hills Bad Asses, BHBA for short, for like the whole pack, because duh, we are _awesome_. And then I thought we should have a name, you know, the ones in it from the beginning, and since it’s really just the four of us now. At first I thought maybe we could be the All Stars… And then I was like no _dude_ we could totally be the Godfathers right? And then I thought maybe The Avengers, but I didn’t want to leave everybody else out so then I thought about the new vampire show on TV, with the family of vamps that started it all - wait, this is a serious question. Are vampires real? Because I don’t think we are at all prepared for a vampire attack. I mean I tried to get Scott to stock up on garlic and stuff but then everyone started complaining that my jeep smelled like a pizza joint so I had to get rid of it ‘cause it’s a total mood killer if you know what I mean? Maybe you don’t, maybe garlic is like an aphrodisiac to you. Who knows, werewolves are kinky man…” By then Derek had zoned out of Stiles ramblings, his attention completely focused on Lydia. Isaac’s cheek was resting against her collarbone, his sleepy breaths ruffling the locks of hair that curled around her ears. She was petting him gently, seeming lost in thought, staring out the big bay window.

Two years ago, Derek had ordered Isaac to kill Lydia. And now they were curled up on a couch together like brother and sister, bonded in what he suspected was mutual loss of Allison. He should have been proud. Instead he was jealous, wishing he was close enough with Lydia to fall asleep with his head in her lap, wishing she liked him enough to comb her fingers through his hair while he slept. Every fiber of his being wanted to be closer to her.

“You ok?” Scott nudged Derek’s arm with his elbow, his face filled with concern. Derek nodded, forcing his now strengthened fascination with Lydia back down inside of him. From the first time he saw her with Jackson, he’d been intrigued. He tried to ignore it (she was only sixteen then), but he couldn’t help his captivation. No, that wasn’t quite the right word. His reactions towards her came from somewhere more primal, the animalistic side drawn to her in a way Derek had never experienced before.

“All good.” Derek let his lips quirk up on one side before tilting his face down to hide any other emotions. There was no need for any of the young pack members to be made aware of his _feelings_ (if they could even be described as that) towards Lydia. It was easy to blame their proximity to the surface on his prolonged separation from the pack. He would have everything under control in no time. Control was something he could handle.


	2. Chapter 2

All Lydia had wanted to do was go for a run. That was it. She wasn’t really a fan of physical activity (other than sex, because, duh), but sometimes she needed to be alone. The burn in her calves and her lungs helped distract from some of her more dangerous thoughts, while at the same time the quiet serenity of the preserve made it easier to think.

Of course, nothing was that easy. She’d made her regular loop, starting in her backyard and following the trails up and around what had once been the Hale property. After she’d reached the river she had taken a break, staring down into the clear water and identifying as many types of plants and animals as she could (it helped to exercise her brain a little too). Once she started home, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. She even stopped once, yanking her earphones out and spinning in a circle, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

“This isn’t funny Stiles!” she yelled, toes curling slightly when her voice echoed through the trees. “Can’t I just run in peace?” There was no answer. Just silence.

Lydia took off again, this time sticking her headphones in her pocket and actually running instead of jogging. She kept glancing over her shoulder, feet catching on roots a couple of times. There was something there, in her periphery. Something big, something dark, an animal. It moved gracefully for its size, slipping between the trees and staying in the shadows. A wolf maybe.

Lydia hit her backyard at full speed, her sweaty hands fumbling with her keys as she forced the back door open. She slammed it shut behind her, panting.

“You okay Lyds?” The sound of Stiles’ voice had her almost jumping out of her skin. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Stiles!” She hissed, taking a shaky step away from the door. “You just scared the shit out of me!”

“Well I hope not _literally_ ,” he smirked at her for a moment, before it was replaced with a serious look. “What’s the matter? What happened? Are you hurt? Did Peter escape? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine Stiles.” She huffed and pushed past him, heading to the kitchen in search of a drink. “Why are you lurking in my house anyways?”

“Don’t try and distract me missy,” He half tripped his way in front of her, blocking any access to the fridge. “I’m serious, what happened?” Lydia let out a sigh, allowing her shoulders to droop slightly.

“I um… I think I’m just paranoid really.” She murmured quietly, pushing him aside so she could grab a bottle of water. “But I keep thinking I see this giant black dog, or wolf, or something… It’s probably just my imagination.”

“Lydia,” Stiles’ hand curled gently around the back of her neck. “We both know how important it is that we take your imagination seriously.” She sighed and leaned into the contact. Even though Stiles’ hands were never warm anymore, they still comforted her.

“I know.” She fiddled with the hem of her tank top. “Just… I don’t think it’s a big deal yet. I… Last week, after we mailed the applications, I think, well there was something following me then. And when I got into the house, I looked back, and there was this giant wolf dog thing sitting at the end of the driveway. Just watching me.” Stiles was staring at her, his brown eyes wide and serious.

“Lydia…”

“I know, I know. But I don’t feel like I need to scream, I don’t feel like anyone’s going to die, I don’t really feel any _danger_. I’m just a little freaked out that there’s something following me around.” She sighed again, sliding her hand up Stiles’ arm. “There’s no reason to freak out yet ok? It’s fine, really.” Stiles still didn’t look convinced, leaving only one way out of this. Distraction. “Remind me again why you’re lurking in my house, uninvited?”

“You gave me a key!” Stiles hissed, clenching it in his hand like a life line.

“Yeah, for emergencies,” Lydia shot back. She softened the blow with a smirk, pleased to see Stiles relax just slightly.

“Well, this is kind of an emergency. We need to plan a welcome home party for Derek.” Stiles threw the last sentence over his shoulder as he disappeared into her living room. Lydia followed him rather reluctantly, rolling her eyes when he flopped dramatically into an easy chair.

“I don’t know if Derek wants a party.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Stiles squinted at her as if she was missing the point. “He’s an anti-social creature of the night, who gets his kicks appearing out of the shadows and glowering at people until they cry. He doesn’t understand the concept of fun.”

“And this is the person you want to throw a party for?” Lydia raised a brow as she sunk onto the couch. “It seems like a waste of time.”

In response Stiles pouted, sticking his lower lip out and putting the puppy dog eyes on in full force (Lydia was convinced that Scott was giving lessons on this shit). Unfortunately for Stiles, Lydia was _immune_ to things like puppy dog eyes and kanima venom and werewolf bites, so she wasn’t about to give in so easily.

“Why do you want to do this Stiles?” She asked after several minutes of silence. “What’s the actual reason behind all of this?” Stiles scowled as she waved her hands in the general direction of his obnoxiousness.

“Why do I have to have ulterior motives, huh?” He sniffed, attempting to look affronted. Lydia smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Because it’s _you_. You _always_ have some kind of scheme going.”

“I am _so_ offended right now Lydia,” Stiles huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. She just stared at him, waiting. It didn’t take long for him to crack, his teeth catching his bottom lip and biting hard before a smile broke through. “Okayyyyyy! Maybe I also really want to have a party. Alright? But this is still about Derek.”

“That’s what I thought,” She smiled haughtily at him. “Why are you talking to me about it?” She _knew_ why. Of course she did. Her friends were incapable of doing anything remotely social without her assistance.

“Because, everyone knows that Lydia Martin parties are the best parties.” Stiles seemed almost defeated as he rolled his eyes, his words holding none of the enthusiasm they _should_ have. And Lord knows Derek would most likely be less than pleased about a party being thrown in his honor. But then again, there was a certain enjoyment to be found in annoying Derek Hale.

“Alright fine,” Lydia sighed, trying not to smirk when Stiles’ face lit up. “Let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

Derek awoke with a start. It took him a moment to recognize where he was, his chest heaving in panic. He was stretched out on his couch, completely naked, clothes nowhere to be seen. Reaching up to rub his eyes, he tried to remember exactly how or why he had ended up naked on his living room couch. Not that he had a problem with nudity, in fact he _preferred_ it, but having a bunch of teenagers who liked to make a habit of bursting in unannounced kind of cured him of that particular desire. Speaking of which…

Scott’s heartbeat was loud and strong as he climbed the stairs to the loft, his breath barely catching at the exertion. There was a second heart beat with the alpha’s, quieter, but more rapid. Derek felt himself smile when the light bulbs in his kitchen flickered. Kira. He scrambled off the couch and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the basket of clean laundry on his bed. Had it just been Scott, or Scott and Stiles, he might have stayed naked just to screw with them a little bit. But Kira would undoubtedly still be flustered if he was shirtless, never mind how scarring it would have been to see him naked. Derek’s lip curled slightly. It’d still be funny.

“Derek you there?” Scott called out unnecessarily. There was no way the kid couldn’t hear his heartbeat. But Derek appreciated the sentiment. At least Scott attempted to have manners. Unlike some _other_ people he could name.

“Yeah, come in!” Derek called out, trying to lean casually against the table. He knew it didn’t work, it felt awkward and planned and he really needed to make this place into something more than a trash pit. The door slid open and Scott stepped through, his hand clasped comfortably with Kira’s.

“Hey Derek,” the kitsune smiled brightly at him, and Derek was surprised to find himself returning his own (less enthusiastic) grin. Kira seemed to take this as an invitation, and she half-tripped towards him awkwardly, wrapping her arms around his waist in a quick hug.

“What’s up?” Derek asked Scott as he patted Kira’s back, trying not to read too much into the pleased way Scott was watching them. He seemed like a proud papa or something. It was unnerving.

“Kira wanted to come see you,” Scott shrugged as he flopped onto the couch. Kira was mumbling under her breath as she pulled away, her cheeks flushing brilliantly. “And I just wanted to check in, make sure everything was okay…” Scott’s teasing manner had dropped, replaced by the stubborn expression Derek recognized from the early days. “I feel like something’s… off… Just… I don’t want to like force you to talk or whatever man, but I’m just…” The alpha pushed a hand through his hair, eyes flashing briefly red. “I’m worried is all.”

Derek sighed and settled into an easy chair, rubbing his hands across his face. He wished he wasn’t worried himself, wished he could tell Scott nothing was wrong without lying. He wished things could be easy for once. He wished he could remember what he’d been doing for the last… He glanced at the windows, frowning at the dark sky. The clock on his microwave read 8:03pm. What _had_ he been doing this afternoon?

“I’m…” How did he even say this without totally freaking Scott out? “I’ve just been having some trouble getting used to the full shift I guess.” He glanced up to find Scott studying him, his expression full of serious concern. The alpha didn’t say anything for a moment, his eyes just flickering across Derek’s face as he thought.

“Okay,” he said finally, shooting Derek a gentle smile. “Okay. Well, I don’t know if that’s something I can even try to help you with dude. But if you need anything, and I mean _anything_ , just ask man. I’m begging you. I know that we don’t have normal... pack dynamics or whatever, but… I just want to help you if I can.”

Derek found himself smiling softly again. The feeling of being cared for was something he was still trying to get used to, but it carried warmth all the same.

“Thanks,” he glanced down at his knees, suddenly shy. “I really appreciate it.” When he looked up both Scott and Kira were grinning widely at him, obviously pleased with his words. Derek kind of hated how good that made him feel. Where was all the angst of the past three years? At least that was familiar.

Scott’s hand moved towards his pocket, pulling out his phone just as it started to ring.

“Hey Scott…”

Derek wasn’t expecting his eyes to flash blue at the sound of Lydia’s voice, and he certainly didn’t expect his body to flush with desire, his heart thudding in his chest and vision blurring slightly. Turning quickly from Scott and Kira, he paced into the kitchen, bracing himself over the sink. He turned on the water, hoping the noise would help drown out his thundering pulse. His claws were descended and he could feel his fangs dropping and ears lengthening. He curled his hands into fists, watching the blood drip between his knuckles onto the stainless steel. With each drop he forced the shift back, forced his heart to slow, and forced his human side back to the surface.

And that’s when he figured it out.

His anchor was slipping.

He couldn’t get angry anymore. There was nothing to get angry about. Sure, he still hated Kate Argent with every fiber of his being. But he wasn’t _angry_ anymore.

“Alpha, beta, omega.” Derek whispered, even though he knew it was futile. That didn’t work unless you believed in it. And he never had.

“What three things cannot be hidden?” Kira’s soft voice came as a surprise as she leaned against the counter beside him.

“The sun, the moon, the truth.” Derek grunted. He could feel the wolf receding, but he knew it had more to do with Kira’s distraction of a presence than Satomi’s pack’s saying.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kira asked after a moment, her hand resting hesitantly on his back. Derek nodded as he rinsed the blood off his hands, only turning to her when he was sure his eyes and face were back to normal.

“Yeah,” he forced the tiniest of smiles. “Like I said, just having some trouble with the shift.”

“Okay.” Kira didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push it. _Thank God._

“Come on Kir! Lydia’s gonna help me with my calculus homework!” Scott called from the doorway. Derek winced as the image of Lydia crouched on a rock by the creek behind his family’s house flashed through his mind. He waved a hand absently at Kira, attempting to dismiss her as quickly as possible. The kitsune gave him one last skeptical look before skipping off after Scott.  

Lydia running through the woods. Lydia’s heart pounding. Lydia smelling of fear. And Derek _wanting_.

He dropped face first into his bed, a familiar feeling of guilt and dread curling in the pit of his stomach. Where were these images coming from? Were they dreams? Were they memories? Why Lydia? Why now? Why couldn’t he remember what he’d done that afternoon?

Derek groaned and burrowed deeper into the nest of blankets on his bed. Hiding in his loft beneath the covers sounded much better than ever trying to figure this mystery out.

* * *

 

“I think that guy is staring at you.” Malia announced, glaring over Lydia’s shoulder towards the corner of the coffee shop. Lydia rolled her eyes and scooped her hair nonchalantly off the back of her neck.

“Stop glaring Malia. It’s a thing that happens.” She snapped, plastering a fake smile on her face for the barista. “Hi yes, I’d like a medium americano… Malia! What do you want?” She nudged the coyote with her elbow, forcing her to stop glaring at the other customers.

“Something’s off about him.” Malia growled lowly as they waited for their drinks, her eyes narrowed. Lydia sighed loudly, refusing to look in the direction of Malia’s glare.

“You’re just paranoid. Men staring at me is not something new.” She was relieved to hear her name being called, giving her an excuse to escape from Malia.

“You mean like how Derek stares at you?” Lydia almost dropped an entire packet of sugar into her coffee at that, turning to frown at Malia.

“What are you talking about?”

Malia just shrugged and continued to dump unholy amounts of cream and sugar into her iced coffee. She smirked at Lydia while sucking what appeared to be a straw full of sugar-milk into her mouth.

“Maybe I’m just paranoid.”

Lydia scowled at the back of her head as they made their way to the picnic table the rest of their friends were slouching over. Scott and Kira appeared to be having a contest to see who could be cuter, Isaac and Stiles were bickering about the fashionability of scarves (Lydia wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring argument), and Liam and Mason were lazily tossing a ball between themselves.

“Alright children, focus.” Lydia commanded as she settled onto the bench beside Isaac. She shot one last glare at Malia before fixing a perfectly angelic expression on her face. “Stilinski is insisting we throw Derek a party. He’s also insisting that it be a Lydia Martin party.” Everyone with the exception of Scott and Stiles exchanged confused looks, and Lydia realized with a pang that it had been two years since she’s thrown a _real_ party (and that had been a total bust influenced by the psychotic Peter Hale). “Which means that all of you are going to be helping.” Her declaration was met by groans all around, even Kira - who tried and failed to pretend she was only yawning. “Listen, if you have a problem, take it up with Stiles, who had the great idea in the first place.” Lydia sniffed, primly taking a sip of her coffee while the rest of the group exchanged glares.

“Do I have to help? I don’t even know this Derek dude.” Mason was attempting to give her puppy dog eyes (Scott was definitely giving lessons), but Lydia was unfazed. “Yup! You my dear, have just volunteered yourself to be my assistant. Here, I brought you a notebook.” She pulled a notepad out of her purse and shoved it towards Mason with a sweet smile.

“You’re lucky I like you.” The sophomore grumbled as he begrudgingly accepted the notebook and wiggled his way onto the bench across from Lydia. She winked at him, allowing herself to give him a _real_ smile. After their little run in with a berserker last year at the school, the two of them had bonded. Mason was definitely smart, and his fashion sense was impeccable. He was the _only_ member of the pack (with the exception of Kira once in a while), that was even enjoyable to go shopping with. He actually cared about how he looked, unlike the other heathens. Sometimes she really missed Jackson.

“Alright,” she paused and flipped open her own notebook, revealing an extensive list. “The party will be at my house three weeks from today, which means we will be in between full moons, so there shouldn’t be problems there. The weather looks like it will be warmed up enough that we can use the pool if we want. Kira, you and I will be in charge of decorations. I don’t think we will need to do much, this is a party for Derek of all people, not a teenage girl. Malia, you’re responsible for food and drink. This doesn’t mean you have to buy it all. Just make a list and we can divvy up the costs. If we get together and actually make a bunch of the stuff, it’ll cost less than buying everything pre-made. Liam and Stiles are in charge of music and or entertainment.” Lydia paused to narrow her eyes at the two boys. “I am _trusting_ the two of you to not only get along, but to not do anything stupid. Don’t make me regret it.” Liam looked terrified, but Stiles of course just rolled his eyes. “Mason, you’re a free agent, you’ll be with me, and probably helping Kira and Malia with whatever they need.” She was pleased to see Mason jotting notes down onto his paper. She had trained him well. “Scott, Isaac and I will be in charge of the guest list.”

“How come I don’t get to help?” Stiles whined, looking for all the world like someone had kicked his puppy.

“Because, your idea of party guests are drag queens.” She stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

“Yeah, and we have to try and invite people Derek actually likes dumbass. Which probably doesn't even include you.” Isaac sneered, immediately sending the entire table into a squabble that Lydia could care less about being involved in.

She stared calmly across the street, watching as people meandered in and out of shops and enjoyed the spring sunshine. A new “magic” shop had opened just around the corner, and she was considering going to check it out while waiting for the arguing to calm down. Instead, she was distracted by a really attractive man jogging down the sidewalk. Scratch that. A really attractive, really familiar man jogging down the sidewalk. Derek Hale.

He had headphones in his ears and aviator sunglasses over his eyes. The ratty tank top he was wearing bordered on indecency, his shoulders and arms and chest and neck shining with sweat. He looked good. Damn good. Lydia watched, fascinated, as he lifted the bottom of his shirt and wiped the sweat off his brow, revealing a completely unfair set of abs.

He wasn’t as big as she remembered, but she figured the image of him in her head was from that one time she’d managed to drag his unconscious body through the woods. He’d been an alpha then. He had slimmed down a bit, but he was still built. Oh man was he built. How had she never noticed this before? She kind of wanted to touch and taste and - stopping this line of thought right now because he was coming towards them.

“Guys!” She slapped her hand down on the table, looking pointedly over Scott’s shoulder at Derek.

“Yo! Der-Bear!” Stiles yelled, waving and smirking like the obnoxious little shit he was.

“Don’t call me that.” Derek growled once he got closer, squeezing his fingers around the back of Stiles’ neck until he cringed.

“Hey easy there big guy!” Stiles somehow managed to squirm his way out of Derek grip, under the table, and in between Isaac and Lydia. “Why don’t you join us?” He motioned grandly towards his now empty seat. “Liam will even go get you a coffee!”

“Where’s _your_ coffee?” Derek asked, his face blank as he folded himself onto the bench.

“Oh it’s right here,” Stiles pointed to his ice coffee, mouth dropping in horror as Derek grabbed it, popped the lid off, and gulped it down. Lydia glanced down to hide her smirk, noticing with a jolt that her notes on Derek’s party were still wide open. She snapped it closed before reaching across the table and doing the same for Mason. When she glanced up, Derek was watching her, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard. Lydia raised an eyebrow at him, not exactly sure _why_ he was looking at her like that.

“Hey Kir, do you think I’m paranoid?” Malia asked from the other end of the table, her face splitting into a delighted smirk when Lydia flipped her off.

“So were you out for a run?” Mason asked from his seat beside Derek. Lydia recognized the appreciative look on his face, and he definitely wasn’t giving Derek any _extra_ space.

“Do I know you?” Derek drawled, doing his best unimpressed face. Lydia sighed loudly, not surprised to hear Stiles and Isaac do the same.

“Can you not dude?” Stiles asked, motioning towards Derek’s _everything_ with one hand. “I thought we’d gotten past the asshole stage of the Derek Hale Healing Process.”

“That’s Mason,” Lydia cut in, narrowing her eyes at the grumpy wolf. “And he’s my friend. So back off.”

“Okay.” Derek acquiesced instantly, holding his hands up in surrender. “My name’s Derek Hale.” He held a hand out to Mason, smiling just slightly when the boy shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Did that just happen?” Stiles asked, glancing around as if he had somehow entered an alternate universe. “Am I hallucinating?” Malia was full out grinning at this point, her eyes wide and bright. Scott was glancing back and forth between Lydia and Derek, his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. Lydia sighed, shooting Derek a small smile.

“Thanks Der.” Without thinking she reached across the table and patted his arm, completely oblivious to the pinkness of his ears and the almost invisible flash of blue in his eyes. “Alright, well as much fun as it is arguing with all of you. I have some other things I need to get back to.” Lydia shot Malia one last _look_ before climbing off the bench and straightening her skirt. “I’ll be expecting status updates on all your _projects_ by next week.” She simpered at them all before turning on her heel and (purposefully) flouncing in the general direction of her car. She was the _queen_ after all.

 

* * *

 Derek couldn’t shake the sense of unease rippling under his skin as he watched Lydia walk towards her car. Something wasn’t right. He glanced around, searching for anyone that looked out of place.

“Why are you so weird dude?” Stiles asked, sliding into Lydia’s abandoned spot. “You seem more paranoid than usual.” Derek just shrugged and took another sip of Stiles’ coffee to shut him up. He blocked out the teens’ indignant squawking as his eyes caught on something inside the coffee shop. In one of the corner booths up against the windows, a man was sitting, his eyes focused on Lydia’s retreating back. His hair was long and dark, and appeared to be braided in random spots. He barely fit in the booth, his shoulders broad and chest full of apparent strength. His eyes were sunken and dark, his face covered in a thick stubble.

Derek didn’t like him.

Why was he watching Lydia? Why was he so _big_? Why did he have braids in his hair? Why wasn’t Scott picking up on this apparent danger to the pack? Why-

He cut off his line of internal questioning when the man stood and pushed his way out of the coffee shop. The rest of the pack barely glanced up, too lost in a conversation regarding just how insane Finstock had become recently. Derek glanced in the direction Lydia had gone, frowning when he realized she _hadn’t_ gone straight to her car. Instead she was meandering down the street, glancing in shop windows and doing something on her phone. And this mystery man was heading straight towards her.    

“Fuck.” Derek hissed, already pushing himself off the bench. He paused when seven pairs of eyes landed on him, all widening in alarm. “I uh…” He searched for something he could say, any kind of half-truth. “I forgot I needed to talk to Lydia about something.” Without waiting for a response, he took off at a brisk jog, bypassing the stranger and bee lining for Lydia. He wasn’t exactly sure why he didn’t just tell the pack the truth. Scott probably could’ve handled whatever was going down in a much more diplomatic fashion than he ever could. But his instincts were screaming to protect her. She was supposed to be _his_ … Lord knows where that thought even came from.

Lydia was watching him approach, her face caught somewhere between a frown and a smirk. Derek wasn’t exactly sure what to do with that, so he ignored it. Anyways, he had better things to think about. Like what the fuck was he going to actually say to her once he got close enough? Definitely not: _oh hey this creepy guy is following you and my wolf has decided that it has the hots for you so imma just come over and posture here for a quick minute._ Yeah. Definitely not that.

“Derek.” Lydia raised an eyebrow at him, her arms crossing defensively. He took a moment to mourn the days when he was the one intimidating people with his eyebrows. Though he was pretty sure he could still glare people into submission if he tried.

“Lydia.” He grumbled, coming to an awkward stop on the sidewalk in front of her. Yes. This was off to an exceedingly awesome start wasn’t it? “I uh…” He paused and scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I just wanted to apologize, you know, for just leaving. I didn’t even think about how that might have affected you. I just needed to get away.” He peeked up through his lashes at her nervously, surprised to find her watching him with her mouth and eyes soft.

“It’s okay Derek,” she reached for him, her hand resting gently on his bicep. Derek valiantly tried to ignore his body’s response to her touch, the instant surge of desire and warmth in his veins. That was _not_ ok. “I mean, I _knew_ you were alive. And honestly, it didn’t really bother me until I found out you were back… It just… It kind of hit me then. But anyways,” she removed her hand, smirk returning to her face. “Apology accepted.”

“Oh. Well…” Derek rubbed at the back of his neck, unsure how to proceed. Lydia made him nervous for some reason. He glanced over his shoulder, frowning when the stranger was nowhere in sight. Where had he gone? There was no way that Derek was about to just abandon Lydia when that creep could be lurking anywhere. “Want me to walk you to your car?” He watched as Lydia’s expression shifted, thanking the powers above (and not for the first time) that Lydia wasn’t a werewolf who could hear the panicked beating of his heart. All he wanted was for her to be safe. (Among other things, but he wasn’t prepared to go down _that_ road just yet).

“Okay,” Lydia acquiesced finally, slapping him gently on the arm. “Let’s go Balto.”

“Really?” Derek smirked down at her, but allowed himself to be directed towards her car. He could feel the eyes of the pack on his back, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. As long as Lydia was safe, everything else would work itself out.

“Is something going on Derek?” Her voice drew him out of his thoughts, bringing his attention back to her concerned face. His jaw clenched for a moment as he considered what he was going to tell her. She didn’t look scared, and her heart beat was fairly steady. But her hands were curling into fists, and her eyes held a steely glint to them that told him she wasn’t going to take any bull shit. And he wanted her. God, he wanted to back her up against her little car and kiss her mouth and leave his mark on her neck and his scent on her skin. He wanted her legs around his waist and her hands on his chest and just…

“Nothing’s wrong.” He murmured, flinching when she glared at him. “Just… Be safe okay? Just because it’s been quiet lately doesn’t mean you can let your guard down.”

She stepped back from him, the loss of her body heat feeling like a bucket of ice water over his head. But that was nothing compared to the look of pure annoyance on Lydia’s face.

“Look Derek. You’ve been gone for a whole year, and you have no idea the hell I’ve been through. I’m not some helpless damsel in distress. I know how to protect myself.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping dangerously. “I know exactly where to break a werewolf. I know precisely how much wolfs bane will make you want to die but not kill you. I know exactly how long you can live with a sword through your chest. And I know when someone is going to die.” Lydia’s lips curled into something like an evil smirk, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve been attacked by your crazy uncle, been on _your_ hit list, dragged your ass through the woods while possessed, watched a giant lizard turn into my boyfriend and then into a werewolf, been strangled by _your_ psychotic girlfriend, lived inside the head of one of my best friends while he was possessed by an evil spirit, _felt_ my very best friend lose her life, watched another boyfriend die, faced down the head of one of the most prominent hunter families to get your ass back from Mexico, faced a panicked teenage Derek Hale after spending the night with him so he wouldn’t be alone, found out that my own grandmother created a hit list of supernatural creatures, was led to believe that I caused the only other banshee I’d ever met to commit suicide, was almost murdered _again_ by a crazy nurse man, predicted _your_ death, and then faced down a berserker with a baseball bat in order to protect Mason. And that’s all from _before_ you left. We took down a coven of witches. We chased some fairies out of your family’s land. Kate Argent came back you know. She tried to kill me. Blamed me for Allison’s death. She won’t be a problem anymore. I don’t need you to protect me. I can handle myself. Now if you want to tell me what the problem is here and work with me, we can do that. But I’m not about to become part of your epic man pain. Got it?”  

Derek breathed heavily through his nose, clenching his own fists in an attempt to hold back the shift. He probably looked angry, he knew that was his default expression, but in reality he was just trying to control himself. Because he _wanted_ her so bad. Telling a woman she’s hot when she’s angry is such a cliché, but Derek had never felt the truth behind it until faced with an angry Lydia Martin. He wanted hot and angry kisses and rough touches and grabbing and dragging at clothes. Over his shoulder he could hear the pack whispering, Scott telling everyone to stay put. The alpha could probably tell that Derek was sexually frustrated more than anything else. The thought of Scott _knowing_ was what finally reined Derek in, brought him back to his senses.

“I didn’t mean…” Lydia rolled her eyes, causing him to change tactics. “Okay. I’m sorry. I believe that you can take care of yourself.” He crossed his arms across his chest, smirking at the spike in Lydia’s heartbeat. So she wasn’t immune to biceps apparently. “You happy now?” Derek felt his confidence returning as he cocked an eyebrow and smirked wider. Lydia just huffed and turned away, yanking the door of her car open with unnecessary violence.

“Just because I’m walking away does not mean I’m forgetting about this,” she sniffed, sliding gracefully behind the wheel and closing the door with a snap. Instead of responding, Derek forced a grin, waggling his fingers at her in the most sarcastic manner possible. As she tore off, he realized belatedly that he may have reverted to kindergarten style tactics of flirting. Which led him to realize that he was indeed attempting to flirt. With Lydia Martin of all people. When did this become a thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I have decided that I will be updating on Tuesdays and Fridays for this story (that way I have time to kind of look things over instead of trying to do a chapter a day). Feel free to come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com) where I freak out about Scott McCall, and get overly emotional about Dydia, Sterek and Derek Hale. 
> 
> XOXO - B


	3. Chapter 3

It was happening all too often.

Flashes of red hair, memories returning with the whiff of honeysuckle perfume. Lydia walking her dog. Lydia swimming in her backyard. Lydia’s naked back viewed through her bedroom window.

Derek was terrified.

He didn’t want to do this to her, he didn’t want to become just another monster that Lydia Martin had to overcome. Most of all he wanted to run away. Pack up his bags and head out of town and never come back. He could find Braeden and go back to the semi-comfortable life he had been enjoying only a month ago.

But that was the problem. He hadn’t been _enjoying_ it. He’d been running home every chance he got. Derek suspected now, now that it had escalated so quickly, he wouldn’t just need to be locked up on the full moons. Braeden would have to lock him up _every night_. And that wouldn’t be a life for either of them. He needed to be an adult and face his problems head on. He needed to actually try and get better. He needed to ask for help.

Derek had done a lot of things in his life, but asking for help was still one of the most difficult things he’d ever tried to do. Not that he had actually been very good at it. Threats and fake nonchalance didn’t usually work all that well. Especially with Scott.

So now here he was, sitting in Scott’s living room, watching the teens around him gossip about the latest drama going down in the halls of Beacon Hills High. The conversation was _not_ helping _anything_. How was he supposed to ask a bunch of teenagers to help him with something so personal? Would a seventeen year old bitten wolf turned true alpha really be able to provide anything for him?

He was momentarily distracted by the arrival of Lydia, breezing into the living room with dark sunglasses covering her eyes and a haughty twist to her lips. When her gaze flicked across him, Derek was pretty sure she narrowed her eyes behind her shades. His stomach dropped. Why was she mad at him? And then he remembered their exchange last week, and how he’d kind of been a sarcastic asshole there at the end. He couldn’t help but smirk at her. Oh it was _on_.

“Nice glasses…” He drawled, forcing his face into the most judgmental smirk possible. Lydia flipped him off, dropping gracefully onto the couch beside Isaac.

It was childish, he knew that. But it had been a long time since he had been able to tease someone so harmlessly. Needling Lydia reminded him of a time when he’d been a carefree teenager, teasing the pretty cello player because he had a crush. Not that he had a crush on Lydia or anything. Obviously. The whole thing with his wolf was a different animal entirely. Whatever. He was just trying to have a little fun.

* * *

Lydia couldn’t remember the last time she had been so…  _aggravated_ with a man. She didn’t know if she ever had. Derek Hale was like an itch beneath her skin that she couldn’t scratch and it was driving her absolutely  _insane_ . She hadn’t even seen him in over a week, but she still had to fight the urge to drive over to his stupid loft, yell at him for being a sexist asshole, and then possibly push him down onto his bed and get busy. Wait.

No. Just ignore that last part. Maybe that was the problem here. She just needed to get laid. It had been awhile since her last partner induced orgasm. The time might have come to take a little trip into the city and pick up a nice college boy to provide a little distraction. Of course, finding someone as hot as Derek Hale might be difficult, but Lydia was always up for a challenge. Not that there was even a reason to compare potential conquests to Derek. He should not even be part of the equation.

“Lydia thought she had a dog following her.” The sound of her name brought Lydia out of her thoughts and back into the conversation happening around her. She might have missed the way Derek flinched at Stiles’ words if she hadn’t been glowering at him from behind the sunglasses she refused to remove (look, she _may_ have gotten a little carried away with the wine last night. But it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it).

“Stiles,” she sighed, throwing her head back against Scott’s couch. “I told you it was nothing. Can we not…” Out of the corner of her eye she watched Derek practically flee from the McCall’s living room, the front door slamming shut seconds later. “He is pissing me off.” She hissed, sitting up and rubbing at her forehead.

“Tell us about the dog.” Malia urged, nudging at her thigh with her toes. Lydia sighed again, not missing the way Scott and Isaac were frowning deeply at the doorway Derek had disappeared through.

“It’s nothing. I think I’m imagining it half the time… I just sometimes have this big scary looking dog following me around.”

“You said before it kind of looked like a wolf,” Stiles prompted, his eyes boring into Scott’s. The sentence seemed to have the desired effect, because Scott was suddenly kneeling in front of Lydia, his hands clasping at her own.

“Is that true, is it a wolf following you?” Scott asked quietly, his eyes full of concern. “You need to tell me if you feel threatened.”

“Will you guys stop? I can handle myself.” Lydia snapped. “And I don’t know exactly what it is, it never gets close enough. Besides, I think I of all people would know if someone was in danger here.” Scott shared another look with Stiles, before standing and pulling Lydia to her feet.

“Stiles, Kira, a word please.” Scott pulled Lydia up the stairs and into his bedroom, motioning to Stiles to shut the door behind them.

“What is going on?” Lydia hissed, pulling off her sunglasses so she could glare more effectively at her friends. “Why are you guys freaking out?” Scott and Kira shared a look, the alpha’s jaw clenching and unclenching rapidly.

“Derek’s having trouble with his shift.” Scott answered finally, looking for all the world like he didn’t want to share this piece of information. “He almost wolfed out in front of me and Kira last week.”

“So you think that it’s _Derek_ following me around?”

Stiles looked almost pleased that she had figured it out so quickly, his frown turning into a smirk.

“Well he did just run out of here with his metaphorical tail between his legs.”

“We don’t know that it’s Derek,” Lydia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “And if it _is_ Derek, then I’m obviously not in danger.”

“No. If it is Derek, which it probably is, then it means he has zero control. He’s losing his ties to humanity. He could rip you to shreds!” Stiles was whisper yelling now, his arms flailing around his head violently.

“You’re not safe. You shouldn’t be out by yourself.” Scott added, his eyes glowing red for a moment.

“Guys. You’re over reacting. Let’s just pretend Stiles never opened his big mouth and get on with it. We have a party to plan anyways.” Lydia forced a smile onto her face even though she knew the others wouldn’t buy it.

“A party for your _stalker_ ,” Kira offered, slapping a hand over her mouth immediately. Lydia raised her eyebrows, contemplating for a moment how she was going to handle this.

“This conversation is over. I expect to hear your party status reports downstairs in three minutes.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and strode out of the room, not even bothering to look behind her.

* * *

Derek woke up six hours later, curled in a ball on his bed. Naked. Like usual. His stomach growled, but he didn’t get out of bed, choosing instead to burrow further into his comforter. The guilt was heavy in the pit of his stomach. Any food he ate probably wouldn’t stay down anyways.

The _last_ thing that Derek wanted was to frighten Lydia. The girl herself hadn’t seemed scared, but Scott and Stiles were obviously up in arms, and Derek knew they had to suspect him. It just made him feel _dirty_.  Packing up and taking off was sounding better and better. At least then he wouldn’t be just another problem for Scott and the pack to deal with.

Not for the first time he wished that Laura were still here with him. He missed his _entire_ family of course, but Laura had been his best friend, and they’d only grown closer after the fire. If he tried hard enough, he could picture her there, in his loft. She’d probably look around the place with mild disgust, judging everything with a twitch of her perfectly manicured eyebrows. _What a dump._ She would say, smirking as she dropped onto the bed beside him. Laura had always been good at comfort, it was one of the things that made her a good choice for alpha. She could always make him smile, even if only for a few seconds. She’d probably run her fingers through his hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions. _Maybe your wolf is trying to tell you something D. Stop moping like a child and do something about it._

The Laura in his head was right of course. Maybe he should be trying harder to _solve_ the problem. But how the hell was he supposed to find a new anchor? It’s not like he could just go to the store and buy one! He had achieved the full shift. All of this should be easy by now. Too bad it wasn’t.

His phone buzzed somewhere, and Derek followed the sound, frowning down at Scott’s name on his screen. Why was he calling? He’d just seen them all this morning. This was totally unnecessary.

“‘Lo?” He answered with a growl, tucking his phone between his shoulder and his ear while searching through his dresser for clothes.

“Derek! Are you okay?” Scott sounded… panicked maybe?

“Um… yes?”

“Dude,” Scott huffed, and Derek thought he could hear Stiles grumbling _are you fucking kidding me?_ in the background. “We’ve been trying to get a hold of you all afternoon! What have you been doing?!?” Derek pulled his phone away from his ear, rolling his eyes at the 6 missed calls and 18 unopened texts he had. This was apparently his life now.

“Fell asleep.” He squinted at the door to the loft, suddenly aware of what sounded like a herd of fucking elephants storming up the stairs. “You’re all here aren’t you.” Scott actually had the nerve to hang upon him, apparently deeming the incessant knocking at the door answer enough. “Give me a fucking minute,” Derek grumbled, running his hands through his hair and glaring at his dresser. He pulled on a pair of sweats, and after counting eight (why was this his life now?) heart beats on the other side of the door, decided to throw on a t-shirt too. Sighing loudly (he was all for passive aggressively letting Scott know he was annoyed), he made his way to the door, begrudgingly sliding it open.

The entire pack was standing in the hall, loaded down with blankets and pillows and what looked like snacks. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again. Still there. This was really happening right now.

“What is going on?” He asked, even as he stepped back and let the teens stream past him.

“Movie night, duh!” Kira answered cheerfully, dropping a bag of DVDs onto his coffee table.

“We just _had_ a pack meeting…” Derek whined in Scott’s direction, not at all impressed with the way he was being ignored in his own home. Lydia was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching Isaac and Stiles rearrange the couched. He tried not to think about how the honeysuckle scent of her perfume might linger on his comforter. His wolf stirred beneath the surface, almost purring with pleasure at the idea.

“It’s just a thing we do dude,” Scott answered easily, attention more focused on the DVDs Kira had brought.

“Yeah but…”

“Okay big guy, here’s the deal.” Stiles interrupted him, pointing a finger in his direction from where he was crouched in front of Derek’s (brand new) TV. “Scotty’s got his alpha thing going on, and he can tell when one of us is having a sucky day. And before you get all weird about it, every single one of us have been in your position at least once.” This was followed by a stern glare. “So anyways, Scott’s wolfy sense tingles, he sends out a text, we all show up and cuddle. Guaranteed to work 99.9% of the time.” The rest of the pack nodded in agreement, continuing to take over his loft as if they owned it.

Derek wanted to be annoyed, he really did. But he couldn’t help but be reminded of his family, how on rainy days he and Laura would pull the cushions off the couch and build a nest, only to fill it with the rest of their siblings and cousins. They’d all snuggle together like that, safe and warm and content with Disney movies playing in the background. Derek hadn’t realized it was something he was missing, but now, as he watched his _new_ pack, it was something he needed. He watched as Stiles put a DVD in (“ _We are having a Jurassic Park marathon assholes, don’t even try to argue with me on this_ ”), and settled on one couch with Scott, Kira and Malia. The new kid (Mark? Matt? Mason. Right) and Liam took over the second couch, their feet tangling in the middle. Lydia and Isaac were lounging on his bed, the pillows pulled down to the foot and their feet up by the head board (well, Isaac’s feet, Lydia was so short it was almost comical).

“Sourwolf,” the sound of the old nickname had him glaring at Stiles’ direction. Of course, Stiles just smirked at him, his eyes full of mirth. “You gonna sit down or you going to lurk in the shadows? It’ll be just like old times yeah?” Derek doesn’t even deign that with a response, instead glancing around and trying not to show how _anxious_ he was over where he’s supposed to be sitting. Couch number one is definitely full, and there was no way in hell he was dealing with teenage make outs mid movie. Couch number two would just be awkward. He didn’t really _know_ Liam or Mason. Which left… his eyes fell on the bed. _His_ bed. To his surprise, both Isaac and Lydia smiled softly at him, each moving slightly to the side to create a spot for Derek between them. Huh. He could feel the eyes of the pack as he walked towards the bed, crawling carefully over Isaac and pulling a blanket over all three of them. By the time he looked up again, head pillowed on his arms, the movie was starting.

It should’ve been awkward, lying there between Lydia and Isaac. Even though his primal side was obviously all about Lydia, they’d never really had the chance to get to know one another, not like he knew Scott and Stiles. They had talked some, about her banshee powers and her grandmother and about Aiden’s last words. But then he’d left, leaving all the potential for friendship and maybe more behind him. Isaac was almost worse, a mess of harsh words and actions between them that he had never apologized for. Maybe now was the time to start.

“Hey,” he whispered, shifting himself up on one elbow so he could wrap an arm around Isaac’s shoulders. “I really missed you.” He almost got whiplash from how fast Isaac’s head turned, blue eyes wide. “And um, I’m sorry about the way um things went down between us.” Isaac’s face was blank for a minute, and Derek thought that maybe he had totally screwed up the tentative truce they’d been operating under. But then he broke into a wide grin, his scent warming up with happiness and contentment.

“I missed you too Derek.” Isaac whispered as he snuggled closer, his body warm against Derek’s. One down, one to go. He shifted to look at Lydia, who raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t even think about us trying to hash out our issues while surrounded by pack Hale.” Her words would’ve been harsh if not for the smirk playing at her lips. Derek remembered back to last week and this morning, the way he’d pushed her buttons.

“I didn’t realize we had _issues_ Martin,” he smirked at her, even throwing in a wink for good measure. If looks could kill, Derek was pretty sure he’d be dead ten times over, especially when someone (he’d bet money on Scott), snorted from the couch.

“You aren’t funny.” Lydia hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could comment on the way her heart skipped a beat. “Just shut up and watch the movie.” Fighting the urge to lick her hand (seriously, she somehow managed to make him want to rip her clothes off _and_ act like a five year old at the same time), Derek continued to smirk, a sense of victory washing over him when Lydia huffed and turned her face purposefully away.

By the time the credits were rolling across the TV screen, Derek realized something had settled inside him. He was still scared, of course he was. Fear was something that Derek always carried with him. But now he understood that he had a pack. Scott would be there when he was ready to ask for help. The others would try and help him regardless of if he wanted it or not. Sometime during the movie Lydia had crawled in between him and Isaac, complaining about how cold the loft was and needing werewolf space heaters. She’d fallen asleep, her back pressed to Derek’s chest, her hands curled around Isaac’s arms. It was… peaceful. Nice. Comfortable even. It was like the ground was a little more solid beneath his feet. Everything was going to be alright.

* * *

 

“You like it when Derek teases you.”

Lydia whipped her head up to glare at Malia across Derek’s kitchen. They were taking a bathroom/snack prep break while Stiles put the next Jurassic Park movie in (joy).

“What.” She didn’t even bother making it sound like a question. It wasn’t.

“Oh come on, I can _smell_ it on you.” Malia was smirking, one hand digging around in a bag of gummy worms.

“Okay. First of all, that’s creepy. Secondly, Derek doesn’t _tease_ anyone. And thirdly,” she flipped her hair over her shoulder for dramatic effect. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Malia scowled at her, probably because her heart didn’t skip any beats. The microwave beeped behind her, and Lydia spun around, pulling out a bag of popcorn. She was kind of hoping Malia would just like, disappear, but she was still standing there when she turned back around.

“Derek teases _you_.”

Lydia sighed. Dramatically. Even threw in an eye roll for good measure to really get her feelings across.

“You. Are. Imagining. Things.” She flicked a popcorn kernel at her. “I’m supposed to be the one with hallucinations and voices in their head, not you.” Malia looked like she wanted to argue, but Lydia was well aware of the number of little werewolf ears that were most likely tuned into this conversation. She knew better than to get into a discussion about this particular topic with someone who could _hear_ lies, never mind when there were several other lie detectors eavesdropping. So she grabbed the bowl of popcorn and scurried back towards Derek’s bed, squirming into her spot between Isaac and Derek in an attempt to hide from Malia. Of course, Isaac was giving her that stupid _look_ , the one that kind of made her want to punch him in the nose.

“Not a word Lahey.” She hissed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth before he had the chance to speak. Isaac just grinned, victoriously chewing the popcorn with his mouth open. Gross. She refused to even _look_ at Derek, preferring to stare at the TV and pray that he had enough manners not to listen in on private conversations. Unlike some other people.

Derek didn’t say anything, just shifted his body a little bit to match the curve of her own. Lydia chanced a glance at him over her shoulder, only to find him smiling sleepily, eyes half lidded as he met her gaze. She studiously ignored the thudding of her heart, the way she instantly wanted to curl closer to him, to have his body wrapped around hers. Instead she just smiled and turned back to the TV, where dinosaurs were already going HAM.

She couldn’t help the tiny sigh that escaped when Derek’s fingers started combing through her hair, so she didn’t stop herself from leaning in to the gentle tugging. The whole pack was probably watching now, Isaac most certainly was, but Lydia didn’t care. It felt _good_ , and not necessarily in a sexual way. It was just nice, comforting even. And Derek didn’t stop, so she figured it was okay to enjoy it.

She could feel herself drifting off, floating in and out sleep. Eventually Derek stopped, his arm curling around her back, just above Isaac’s around her waist. Even though she didn’t _need_ to be protected, there was still a certain security in falling asleep surrounded by werewolves. The back of her neck prickled, and Lydia opened her eyes, expecting Malia or Stiles to be staring at her like the total creeps they were. The entire pack appeared to be asleep, with the exception of Mason, whose eyes were trained on Jeff Goldblum freaking out about something or other or the TV screen. She was about to shrug the feeling off when her eyes caught on movement outside the bay window. Something was moving out on the balcony, almost bleeding into the shadows.

It looked like a wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! This chapter is a little short, and kind of a filler, but there will be more action in the next one I promise! I am currently OBSESSED with pack bonding and I could just fill a fic with fluffy pack cuddles because it is absolutely necessary. Also, I'm thinking about making a playlist for this fic, so if you have any song recs let me know in the comments or in my [ask box](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com/ask). 
> 
> XOXO - B


	4. Chapter 4

It was always there now. A little tickle at the base of her skull, the prickling feeling when the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. There was someone watching her. There wasn’t danger there, or at least Lydia didn’t think so. The feeling was different from when someone like Peter or Ms. Blake used to look at her. She kept it to herself though, not fully prepared for Scott and Stiles to go into protective mode and insist on accompanying her everywhere. They were still giving her weird looks after the whole Derek/Stalker Wolf conversation. And there was no way she was having a repeat experience on that one. Not to mention that Derek hadn’t been around much since their movie night either. Lydia hypothesized that he was probably embarrassed about snuggling with her and Isaac or something stupid. Or he was just in the middle of one of his scheduled brooding periods and was trying his hardest to increase the level of man pain. Either way, she wasn’t sure old grumpy pants would even show up to the party. Which was in, she checked her watch (Kate Spade of course), in less than four hours. Time to focus.

Liam and Stiles were bickering in the corner of the patio, surrounded by a mess of cords and speakers and laptops. Mason and Kira were hanging paper lanterns, both balanced precariously on deck chairs. It was only a matter of time before disaster struck. Deciding she didn’t really want to be present for _that_ particular spectacle, Lydia made her way back into the house. Following the sounds of clanging pans and swearing into the kitchen, she found Malia glaring daggers at a tray half filled with pigs in blankets.

“Malia,” she said gently, laying a hand on her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you take a break? Go for a run or something.” The tension left her body in an instant, and she was disappearing before Lydia could add anything else. Scott and Isaac came in just as she slid the now finished tray into the fridge, arms loaded with steak and sausage and enough meat to feed an army. Or a pack of werewolves.

“Did you have enough money?” Lydia asked, peering into each bag before letting the boys fill up the freezer.

“Yeah,” Scott shoved a wad of cash at her. “I think Mr. Wilson down at the deli felt bad for us and gave us a discount or something.” She just nodded and accepted the money, putting it carefully away in the envelope clipped onto her bright purple clipboard. They didn’t exactly have a ton of money between them all, but luckily food had ended up being their biggest (and only) expense.

“What do you need us to do?” Isaac asked, crossing his long legs at the ankle and leaning against the counter like some sort of GQ model. Lydia studied her list, checking off the things that were already done. Which was pretty much everything.

“I think we’re in good shape.” She mused, chewing on the end of her pen. “Just making sure our guest of honor shows up I guess.”

“He’ll be here.” Scott promised. “He wouldn’t just ghost on us.” Lydia rolled her eyes, huffing out a laugh when she made eye contact with Isaac over Scott’s head. Isaac smirked.

“Whatever you say Scotty Boy.”

“Hey!” A squawking Stiles slid across the hardwood into the kitchen. “That’s my nickname for Scott! You can’t use it!”

“I’d like to see you try and stop me Stilinski.”

“Oh you fucking -” Winking at Scott, Lydia went back outside. She’d rather watch Kira fall off a chair than listen to that argument. Again.

* * *

Derek considered not going. If they really thought they could get a surprise party past a twenty four year old werewolf, then they had another thing coming. Never mind the fact that he had barely any control, slipping into the full shift almost daily. It would be fine, good even, if he could just remember what he’d been doing, where he’d been. Memories would come to him in flashes, like shots from a movie. A disturbing number included flashes of red hair and high heels. He was trying hard not to think about what that might mean.

“Cabs are heeeeyah!” Stiles yelled from the doorway to the loft, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Derek could smell _Lydia_ on him, and he had to curl his claws into his palms to keep his eyes from flashing.

“Why are you talking like that?” he growled, taking his own sweet time as he laced up his boots.

“Jersey Shore? Pauly D?” Stiles huffed and glanced heavenwards. “God you need so much pop culture exposure it’s not even funny.” Derek smirked at his boots in order to hide his face. He wasn’t about to tell Stiles that he and Laura had watched the first few seasons religiously back in their New York apartment. Or that they’d even dressed up at J-Woww and The Situation one year on Halloween. He’d save that for another time, along with his Star Wars trivia and fluency in several languages. Had to keep these kids on their toes somehow.

“I don’t understand why you’re chauffeuring me. I’m not a child,” he grumbled instead, pushing himself to his feet.

“Scott told me to.” Stiles replied with a shrug, the corners of his mouth twitching. The kid had gotten good at telling half-truths. Derek would give him that.

“Right.” When Stiles didn’t respond to his inquisitive look, he sighed and let it go. “Fine. Let’s go.” Stiles positively beamed at him. He pretended it didn’t make him want to smile too.

When they pulled into Lydia’s driveway, there were only three vehicles parked in the drive, all belonging to the pack, and he wondered for a moment if he had gotten this all wrong. Once he opened the door, the odd sent of ozone hit him, and he narrowed his eyes. Stiles was leading him around the side of the house with the most obnoxiously pleased swagger to his steps. _Somebody_ had been practicing their magic.

“Why can’t I hear anyone?”

Stiles just shrugged and smirked at him over his shoulder.

“You must be getting old or something.” Derek narrowed his eyes. That little shit. He’d show him old. Derek liked to think of himself as a fine wine, only improving with age. But before he could retort, Stiles was swinging open the back gate, the sounds of laughter and heart beats flooding his ears, followed quickly by a loud cheer of SURPRISE! He could feel his ears burning at all the attention, but Derek forced himself to look up at the people waiting for him. All the kids were there, and Scott’s mom and the Sheriff. Deputy Parrish tipped a beer his way, flanked by two other deputies Derek had gotten friendly with from the station. Chris Argent seemed out of place in the corner, but Satomi appeared to be in the middle of interrogating him about something or other. Unbidden, Derek’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile.

Kira cooed loudly and rushed forward to hug him, breaking the tension that Derek hadn’t even noticed. His pack had been worried about his reaction he realized while patting Kira’s hair. For some reason that pleased him, something warm and small curling around his heart. They really cared.

Somehow Derek managed to find his way to the grill, sipping on a beer and listening to Jordan and John chat amicably.

“It’s good to have you back kid,” John announced suddenly, gripping Derek’s shoulder as he glanced around warily. “I still feel a little safer knowing you’re here to watch over these idiots.” Derek followed the Sheriff’s gaze, smirking at Isaac and Stiles dueling with pool noodles.

“I’m not really - they’re all-”

“So when you gonna apply at the station?” Jordan cut off his frankly lame attempt at denial with a grin. “I could use a partner who won’t be tempted to kill me for financial gain.” Derek glanced at the Sheriff, who was actively ignoring them, poking needlessly at the steaks on the grill.

“Oh I don’t know if I’m really -” He paused at the sudden sound of Lydia’s voice, unable to stop himself from turning to look at her. She was standing beside Scott, both of them smiling proudly as they looked out over the party. But Derek was distracted by her bare foot and calf peeking out from the Hawaiian print looking thing wrapped low around her hips. His eyes trailed over the gentle jut of her hip bones and the soft expanse of her belly, her perky breasts covered by a floral bikini top, her long delicate neck and plump lips. He wanted to mark all that creamy white skin up with his tongue and teeth, he wanted to claim her, to make her his.

“You okay man? Your eyes were gettin’ all wolfy.” Jordan broke the spell, and Derek physically shook himself, attempting to tamp down his primal urges.

“Yeah sorry, I uh, I need to go thank the kids though.” He excused himself quickly, striding around the edge of the pool towards Scott and Lydia. Maybe if he faced whatever this was head on, it would go away.

* * *

Lydia watched warily as Derek made his way towards her. She had seen the way his eyes had flashed just minutes ago, his face set in that trademark scowl. He better not think they were going to argue about this party right now. She’d eviscerate him. Maybe a little maiming would distract her from the way his gaze on her made her body react.  _That_ was something that never needed to be addressed. Ever.

“Hey…” Derek came to an awkward stop in front of her, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. Lydia raised an eyebrow. (What? There was no good reason to go easy on the guy.) “I uh. I just wanted to thank you guys for doing this.” He frowned at the spot Scott had somehow managed to vanish from. “And for letting them do this at you home.” There was something that might have been vulnerability in his eyes, and Lydia couldn’t help but soften slightly.

“You’re welcome,” she replied simply, valiantly ignoring the way his grim expression eased and how _good_ he smelled this close. “But you should really be thanking Stiles. It _was_ his idea.”

“I don’t want to thank him.” Derek had the nerve to actually _pout_ , looking more like a petulant child than anything else.

“You should.” Lydia smirked. “Give him a big ole Thank You Kiss.” Derek frowned harder.

“I’d much rather kiss -” He cut himself off, glancing up at her with wide, ~~beautiful~~ eyes. She just looked at him, silently daring him to make a move. Suddenly he was spinning on his heel and stomping towards the pool, dragging a spluttering Stiles out of the water and planting the quickest kiss on earth on his forehead. Lydia ignored the phantom twinge of something cold and steely in her cut, instead focusing on the chaos erupting around her. Malia was snarling at Derek, her fangs and claws descended. The Sheriff was covered in beer, a half empty can rolling around on the concrete by his feet. And Stiles… Stiles was beat red and _still_ spluttering nonsense. Derek of course, following the seemingly childish theme of the evening was pointing at Lydia. And glaring.

“ _She_ said I had to give you a thank you kiss,” he explained, looking like he was currently reconsidering every choice he made since returning to Beacon Hills.

“And you just did it? Because Lydia said so?” Scott asked with an eye roll. Derek nodded, and Malia turned back to human form so fast she almost fell over.

“Can we all agree that I’m not paranoid?” The coyote asked the group at large. Most looked supremely confused, but Lydia didn’t miss the glances shared between Malia, Kira, Stiles, Scott and Isaac. _That_ was so not going to fly. Those assholes had no right to be gossiping about her behind her back. But she could deal with them later, she had other things to attend to first.

“Sorry Der,” she smirked, patting him gently on the arm. “I honestly didn’t think you’d do it.” Derek glowered at her.

“Then why’d you ask?” Lydia smirked wider, debating if she should make her next comment. She pushed up on her tip toes, lips only centimeters from Derek’s ear.

“Maybe I like watching pretty boys kiss…” She dropped back, biting her lip as Derek’s ears turned pink.

“How about ‘pologizing to me! I’m the victim here!” Stile squawked from the pool, water splashing around him.

“Please,” Lydia flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Look me straight in the eye and tell me you didn’t like it.” Stiles flushed and dived under the water, shooting away towards the other side of the pool.

It occurred to her that she could give Derek her own thank you kiss, just a little peck on the lips. And maybe he would kiss her back. He looked like a good kisser, with his full lips and that stubble and those big hands. She realized belatedly that she’d been staring at Derek. Well. Derek’s lips. In an attempt to save face, she patted his cheek and simpered, before spinning around and ~~escaping~~ going to find Kira. Obviously.

She managed to corner the kitsune in the kitchen.

“What was the _look_ you all had out there?” She asked without preamble. Kira shifted nervously, toying with the hem of what looked like Scott’s sweatshirt.

“What? I don’t know? Maybe you’re imagining -”

“Kira.” Lydia cut her off with a glare. “Tell me.”

“We just think that Derek stares at you a lot! And he like always reacts to the sound of your name or your voice! And he might,” Kira dropped her voice to a whisper. “Have a crush on you.” Lydia huffed and rolled her eyes. That was just absurd. She didn’t do _crushes_ and neither did grown ass men who looked like Derek Hale.

“You guys are delusional.” She was surprised to have Kira glare at her, expression hard.

“See this is why we didn’t tell you,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare hurt his feelings!” Before she could respond, Kira slipped past her and rejoined the party.

* * *

The party went smoothly after that. As the clock ticked closer and closer to midnight, people began leaving in groups and pairs, waving at Lydia as they passed through the back gate. It was almost strange, to be alone so suddenly after spending hours surrounded by her pack. But Lydia wasn’t afraid of loneliness. She had long ago accepted it as part of herself.

She was cleaning up stray solo cups when the back of her neck prickled with awareness. She whipped her head up, expecting to be met with the darkness of the preserve where it faded into her yard. She flinched at the sight before her. There was a huge wolf-like creature sitting on the fringe of the light, its fur tinged with green as if it was glowing. Great. This was _exactly_ how she wanted this night to end.

“Derek?” she asked carefully, even though she knew in her gut it wasn’t him. The wolf didn’t move, so she inched closer, desperately trying to calm her hammering heart. “What do you want?” The wolf cocked its head, and Lydia felt for sure that it was somehow going to answer her. Any reply it would have made was cut off by a deep growl reverberating from the patio behind her. There was another wolf now, this one black as the night with brilliant blue eyes. Of course. Derek.

**_Call off your dog Bean Sìth._ **

Lydia flinched, turning her attention back towards the original wolf. She was almost positive that she’s just heard a deep masculine voice, the words spoken in formal, slightly accented English. Wolf Derek continued to growl, slinking around Lydia to position himself between her and the other creature.

“What is going on? How are you talking?” She asked, fighting the sudden urge to curl her fingers in Derek’s thick fur.

**_My name is Onchu. I have come to restore the natural order to the Beacon._ **

The wolf’s mouth didn’t move, but she could hear the words as if they were inside her head.

**_Dismiss your mutt, and then we may converse._ **

“As someone who _also_ shifts into a wolf, you’re not really in the position to be making dog jokes,” Lydia pointed out. In front of her Derek tensed even more, a low snarl slipping between his bared teeth. “Listen bud,” she planted her hands on her hips as she addressed Onchu. “If you want to talk to me, you can show up in your human form and we can chat. During the day. And at least one of my pack members will be there, so you better get over whatever woodland creature phobias you’re harboring.” She paused to nudge Derek with her knee. “And you and I are going to have a _serious_ conversation. Right now.” She turned on her heel and stomped as best she could in bare feet across the patio and towards the house. Derek slipped inside just seconds before she slammed the door, his wolf brows furrowed. Prada glanced at them from her place on the couch, too used to the scent of werewolves to do anything but let out an exasperated sigh (that Lydia found herself relating to on a spiritual level).

“Change back.”

Wolf Derek just glared at her, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Oh what, have you suddenly become modest?” Lydia huffed to herself, leading Derek up the stairs and into her bedroom. “You shed on my comforter and you’ll end up as my fur coat.” Derek didn’t look all that impressed. At this point Lydia was starting to question so many of her life choices, but she dug through her closet anyway, emerging with an old pair of Jackson’s sweatpants and a giant Beacon Hills Athletics t-shirt she’d been saddled with for dress code violations freshman year. Ah. To go back to simpler times. She tossed the clothes onto the bed before pointedly turning her back to Derek. “I promise I won’t peek. Change back now.”

Silence descended over her bedroom. She waited a few moments before peeking over her shoulder, frowning at the sight of Wolf Derek, his bright pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. “You are Derek right?” She asked, not really expecting an answer as she dropped to her knees in front of him. It occurred to her that A) he might not comprehend English in this form, or B) he was stuck as a wolf. Either way, she probably needed to call Scott and Stiles. All she wanted was to go to bed! Was that too much to ask?

She pulled her phone out of her bikini (hey - don’t judge, it’s not like a sarong has pockets) when an idea occurred to her. Just last week Stiles had been delighted to find some old legends about werewolves. One had suggested that if you threw his clothes at it, they would change back (of course Stiles saw that as an excuse to continuously toss dirty socks at Scott, Isaac and Liam). The other legend stated that at the sound of their true name, the wolf would turn back to his human form.

Sighing, Lydia dragged the clothes from the bed and draped them across Derek’s back. Nothing happened. Okay. Great. She sunk down until she was eye level with the wolf. It was disconcerting, now that his eyes weren’t flashing beta blue, they were the green/blue/gray/gold combination that could only be found on Derek Hale’s pretty face. “Derek Hale.” The wolf blinked at her. “Derek Hale, I know it’s you.” Frustrated, she typed out a text to Stiles.

**To Stiles: What’s Derek’s middle name?**

The reply was almost instantaneous.

**From Stiles: Scott**

**From Stiles: HAHAHA JK just know it starts with S**

**From Stiles: He totes wishes it was Scott tho**

**From Stiles: wait. why?**

**From Stiles: this is weird**

**From Stiles: are you doodling in your chem notes again?**

**From Stiles: LLM & DSH 4EVA**

Ignoring her buzzing phone, Lydia narrowed her eyes at the wolf.

“Derek S Hale. Time to be human.” The wolf whined, and on instinct Lydia curled her hands around his ears, wanting to soothe him. One second she had her hands full of fluffy wolf, the next she had a lap full of a _very_ naked Derek Hale. “Really? Touch was all you needed?”

Derek looked up at her with unfocused eyes, confusion clear on his face.

“Lydia? What’s going on?” He seemed to realize he was naked, flinching away from her fingers still curled around his ears.

“I brought some clothes out for you,” Lydia replied primly, averting her eyes and climbing to her feet. “I’m just going to give you some privacy.” She grabbed her own pajamas from her dresser and stepped into her en suite bathroom. She took her time, brushing her teeth and braiding her hair, giving Derek the opportunity to get himself together. Or run. Which wouldn’t be all that surprising. But when she stepped back into her bedroom, he was still there, looking painfully young in too small sweatpants and a t-shirt that managed to hang loose even on him. He didn’t say anything as she sat carefully beside him on the bed, their knees almost touching.

“Stiles has been texting you,” Derek mumbled, his eyes fixed determinedly on the floor, Lydia nodded and reached for her phone.

**To Stiles: i’ll explain tomorrow. go to bed.**

She knew that would only wind Stiles up even more, but at the moment Derek needed her attention. So she sat. And she waited.

“I’ve been having trouble with the shift.” Derek’s voice broke the silence. “Ever since my first full moon after Mexico I would…” He paused for a moment, raking his fingers through that thick dark hair, leaving it sticking up in a way that shouldn’t have been attractive, but was anyways. “I don't remember what happens when I’m a wolf. So I would change and just take off and I’d wake up in the morning in human form. For the last few months, Brae had to lock me up, use mountain ash and steel doors to keep me safe.” Lydia felt her gut twist at that. She knew enough about Derek’s past to extrapolate that he had to have been uncomfortable. “We figured out that I was trying to run home, or at least that’s what we thought. It’s hard to tell when I only get flashes of my memories, nothing solid. I thought once I came back everything would get better. But now,” he took a deep breath through his nose, eyes flashing blue briefly. “It’s just gotten worse. My anchor isn’t working, It’s like my body wants to be in wolf form and I’m scrambling to find something that will keep me human.”

“So what are you doing here?” Lydia asked after a moment of silence. “Do you know?” Derek tensed up slightly, his body language screaming discomfort.

“I uh…” he huffed quietly, pushing himself up off the bed and pacing towards the window. Lydia averted her eyes, pretending that those sweatpants weren’t absolutely molded to his thighs. And ass. And other… things. “My wolf appears to be drawn to you.” Derek was resolutely not making eye contact, his jaw clenched hard.

“So I have _two_ wolves following me around. Fantastic.” Lydia sighed and flopped back onto her bed, suddenly overcome with exhaustion.

“What other wolf?” Derek’s voice was suddenly much closer, and Lydia opened one eye to find him kind of… looming over her bed.

“Onchu, from earlier?” Derek stared back at her blankly. “You know what, never mind. I’m going to have to explain this to Scott and Stiles in the morning.” She opened her other eye to give him a pointed look. “Got it? Now go away.”

She closed her eyes, and after a few moments, she could hear the sound of her bedroom window sliding open, and a muffled thump seconds later. Jumping out the window. How original of him.

She felt vaguely unsettled as she turned her lamp off, rolling around in her sheets in an attempt to get comfortable. It was hard to fall asleep with the feeling of something missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I made the executive decision that Lydia's middle name is Lorraine. Someone correct me if that is not the case and they've used another name/initial in the show  
> As I said on Tuesday, I am seriously thinking about a playlist for this fic, so if you have songs you think would fit, let me know (if it's left to me I will probably just add Hozier's entire album and call it a day... current song obsession for this fic: It Will Come Back by Hozier). Anyways, please let me know any questions or comments you have about this story :). And feel free to come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com)
> 
> XOXO - Beth


	5. Chapter 5

Derek wasn’t sure if he should be pissed that the “Originals” (as Stiles was continuing to refer to them as) had invited themselves over to his loft, or pleased that he didn’t actually have to leave his den. Either way, he’d prefer to wallow in peace. Coming to naked, in Lydia Martin’s bedroom wasn’t exactly something he wanted to relive. Or even think about in Stiles’ presence. As it was, he was currently uncomfortable enough with Isaac stretched across his couch and Scott pacing in front of the window, debating what Lydia could possibly want to talk about on a Sunday morning.

“Why do you have sweats that smell like Lydia? And… Jackson?” Scott’s nose was wrinkled as he held the pants from last night in front of his face.

“You have no manners,” Derek grumbled, praying the tips of his ears weren’t turning red. “She let me borrow them last night.” He didn't dare elaborate further, knowing Scott would pick up on any lies. Luckily he was saved by the arrival of Stiles and Lydia, already bickering loudly as they strode (Lydia)/stumbled (Stiles) into the loft.

“I can’t believe you are still refusing-” Stiles paused, frowning heavily at Scott. “Come on now Scotty, we've talked about this. No sniffing people’s pants.” Scott said _something_ but Derek’s attention was focused solely on Lydia. She looked tired, her hair frizzing slightly and her make up smudged in a way that suggested it might have been left over from the night before.

“Hey,” she murmured, settling down onto the arm of his recliner. Derek frowned at her for a moment, unsure of the motivation behind her proximity. But she didn’t explain herself, and Derek couldn’t help but lean into her a bit. She smelled so good, like Pack and ink and honeysuckle. A frighteningly large part of him wanted to bury his face in the fabric of her blouse, to feel her arms wrapped around him and her fingers in his hair. He thought he should probably move away from her, give her some space. But Lydia had sat next to _him_ , not the other way around. Plus her presence kind of… settled him.

Lydia crossed her legs and leaned against him slightly, tapping her fingernails against the hard case of her phone and observing the three boys with an unimpressed expression on her face.

“Are you finished or…?” she asked, raising one eyebrow. Derek couldn’t help but _enjoy_ her special brand of snark. Stiles huffed in response, flopping down on top of Isaac’s legs and sparking another scuffle. Eventually, all three boys settled onto the couch, looking up at Lydia expectantly. “So I’ve figured out what’s been following me.” She announced, glancing at her nails nonchalantly. “And it _wasn’t_ Derek.” Derek glowered at the sheepish looking Scott. He didn’t appreciate that assumption, even if it was kind of true. Lydia leaned over the side of the chair, and Derek instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her steady. And if he kept his arm their long after it was needed… Well, he didn’t quite have an excuse for that yet. “Last night I was visited by a large wolf like creature. He told me his name was Onchu, and based on the facts that he one: referred to me as Bean Sìth, two: the Celtic origin of his name, three: his apparent telepathic communication abilities and four: his wolf form, I think he is a Cù Sìth.” She paused, glancing up from the notebook she’d pulled from her purse. The three younger boys just stared at her, mouths open in awe… or confusion. Probably a combination of the two.

“The cousin of the banshee,” Derek offered, to break the silence. “I believe legend says that anyone who hears their bark will die if they don’t make it to safety by the third repetition.”

“Right,” Lydia agreed, causing Derek to preen a little bit under her praise. “Onchu told me last night that he had come to _restore the balance_. From what I’ve gathered, the Cù Sìth does not usually take part in the deaths, similar to the banshee. However, they will step in to… keep the natural order.” Lydia sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. Derek tugged on her waist gently, giving her the OK to lean against him, ignoring Isaac’s knowing look. “I think he’s here because we’ve been trying to stop the deaths from happening after I’ve predicted them.” Silence followed, Stiles and Scott doing their usual creepy telepathic/eyebrow communication, Isaac just looking kind of bored.

“How come none of us have picked up the scent though?” Scott asked after a moment. “Shouldn’t we have heard or seen or smelled something?” Derek frowned. The alpha had a point. They should have noticed something. _He_ should have noticed something.

“Some of the research I found suggests that the Cù Sìth can mask their scent. There was also mentions of the ability to move silently. Basically, they are gifted at passing undetected.” Lydia swallowed hard, her heart rate picking up speed suddenly. “I saw him in his wolf-like form last night. I know for certain that he was the same wolf I saw after dropping off our college applications, once on the edge of the lacrosse field, and out there on movie night.” She jerked her head towards the balcony in emphasis. There had been a supernatural creature just outside his loft, and Derek hadn’t even noticed?! He felt angry, ashamed, embarrassed too. The anger was the more acceptable emotion, and he grasped for it, working on building some kind of argument or speech in his head. Before he had a chance to say anything, Lydia was stiffening beside him, body going rigid and eyes wide.

“Ugh, he’s such a dick.” she huffed after a moment, shaking out her arms. “He’s here, don’t freak out.” She hopped up off the chair, straightening her skirt and marching primly towards the door. Just like that, she was going to let some random dude into _his_ apartment.

“Scott,” Derek hissed, levering himself out of the chair so that he could lean against the back instead. “Sit where Lydia was.” Scott actually obeyed him. It pleased Derek deeply to see that trust like that had actually developed between them.

The sound of the door sliding open had Derek tensing, eyes glowing and fangs descending as this mystery creature appeared.

“I thought I requested you warn your mutts?” The voice was low and raspy, as if its owner’s vocal chords were rusty from misuse. It was accented slightly, Derek guessed maybe Scottish or Irish roots, and it seemed to reverberate deep in his bones.

“Maybe they just don’t like you,” Lydia sniffed, stepping back to allow their _guest_ to step inside. Derek stiffened. He recognized this asshole. The creepy dude from the coffee shop. He seemed even bigger now, towering over Lydia’s tiny frame. His dark hair was pulled back from his face, only making the sunkenness of his eyes and sharpness of his cheekbones more apparent. He looked a hell of a lot like Khal Drogo from Game of Thrones. Derek didn’t like him.

Lydia quirked one eyebrow at the new seating arrangement, but she didn’t say anything. He was grateful when she settled gracefully into the chair, like a queen on her throne.

“What business do you have with Lydia?” The tone of Scott’s voice surprised him, the words holding a confidence and almost cutting edge that was far from normal. Scott was practically lounging on the arm of the chair, the picture of relaxation even as raw power seemed to blur around his edges. This was a side Derek had never seen of his alpha, but he was impressed nonetheless. It looked like Scott had learned some things in the past year.

“Alpha McCall, the first true alpha the world has seen in over one hundred years. Word of you is spreading, you know.” The stranger’s words were toneless almost, making it difficult to get a read on his emotions.

“Yeah? That’s great.” Scott shrugged, eyes glowing red. “Don’t really care. Now tell us why you’re here.” Now _that_ sounded like something Derek himself would have said. Judging by the smirks Isaac and Stiles exchanged, the similarities hadn’t escaped them either.

“I was under the impression we would not have quite so large of an audience.” the man replied, nonplussed. “Would you care to introduce me to your pack?” The words were obviously for Scott, but his eyes never left Lydia. It made Derek want to stand in front of her, to shift into wolf form and guard her. The only thing holding him back was the knowledge that Lydia would probably skin him alive for pulling a stunt like that.

“This is Derek Hale, my second.” Derek tried to keep the surprise off his face. He hadn’t realized that Scott thought so highly of him. But judging by the lack of reaction from the others, it was obvious to everyone else. “Stiles Stilinski,” Scott continued, “emissary in training and my consigliore, if you will.” Stiles winked at the man, and Derek couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Leave it to Scott and Stiles to reference mafia hierarchies. They’d probably been scripting an encounter like this one for months. “Isaac Lahey, my chief medical officer.”

“I’m like the Bones to his Kirk,” Isaac deadpanned, a smirk playing along the corners of his lips. Derek fought the urge to face palm. He didn’t even want to know what the rest of the pack had come up with for titles. He was eternally grateful to only be referred to as Scott’s second. Although he had a sneaking suspicion that Stiles had probably assigned him something much worse in his head. “And this is Lydia Martin, resident genius and banshee.”

“Of course,” the man bowed slightly. “Your queen.”

“Obviously.” If he’d been trying to get a reaction out of Scott, it didn’t work. “Who are you, exactly?”

“I am Onchu, I have been sent to restore the balance to the Beacon.”

“Yeah we got that part dude,” Stiles scoffed. “ _Who_ sent you? What does that even mean?”

“You allow your betas to speak out of turn?” Onchu asked Scott, seemingly unimpressed with Stiles’ input. Scott shrugged.

“They speak for me, And Stiles is my equal.” His pleasant demeanor dropped. “I’d appreciate it if you’d answer his questions.”

Derek let himself smirk, sliding one hand along the back of the chair to grip Scott’s shoulder. The alpha tilted his face up to him and grinned before knocking his shoulder gently against Lydia’s.

Lydia didn’t really react, everything about her screaming unease. Her eyes were glued to Onchu, watching as he settled himself onto the empty couch. Derek wondered if Onchu was communicating telepathically with her, or if Lydia just didn’t like the situation.

“The Council sent me,” Onchu crossed one ankle over his knee, steepling his fingers. His eyes crinkled in the corners when Stiles threw his head back and groaned,

“I _hate_ those guys!” Derek frowned. What the fuck was The Council?

“Yes, Mr. Stilinski, I was warned about your particularly poor attitude regarding adherence to the rules.” Stiles glared. “Regardless, The Council is concerned that Ms. Martin had been using her ability to interfere with the natural order of life and death.”

“I’m not about to let innocent people be murdered in cold blood.” Lydia’s voice was steely. “Did _The Council_ even notice that there was a dead pool full of supernatural creatures circulating last year? That seems like something more worthy of their time.”

“It is not your job Ms. Martin. The bean sìth is not to interfere with the deaths she announces. You have prevented twenty four deaths to date. Three of them are in this room with us.” Derek flinched, remembering all too clearly when Lydia had stood not fifty feet from where they were now, soaking wet and screaming. And Scott, telling him his name was the third key, alongside Allison and Aiden. How Scott was so determined to save him. Lydia leaned back, her shoulder pressing against his hand, instantly grounding him. He couldn’t know if it was intentional, but he appreciated it all the same.

“I love them. I will not let them die.” Her heartbeat was steady. Derek didn’t want to think about the implications of being included among the people that Lydia loved. “Don’t you think it’s a little hypocritical for the immortal members of The Council, and yourself, to be telling me that it was my pack members’ time to die before they’ve even reached twenty five? I’m not stopping.”

Onchu regarded them all for a moment, his expression serene in a way that reminded Derek of Deaton. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

“I will communicate your decision to The Council,” he announced after a moment, He stood in one smooth motion, eye glowing an eerie yellow-green as he nodded once at Lydia, then once at Scott. Without another word, he swept out of the loft noiselessly, leaving them all in silence.

* * *

 

Lydia hated the god damn Council. They were a bunch of wrinkly old supernaturals, mostly vampires and fae, the (for all intents and purposes) immortal species. Last fall, one of the (many) fairy courts had gotten The Council involved when Scott had politely asked them to relocate from Hale lands. (The fae were absolute _menaces._ They played tricks on humans, took over nightclubs downtown with their trippy magic, and tried to kidnap both Lydia _and_ Stiles, because apparently they both had fairy blood in their veins). In the supernatural world, they had learned that werewolves were often looked down upon, referred to as dogs and mutts, the words sounding dirty and wrong. Scott’s true alpha status was the only leverage they had, and luckily the council had finally agreed with the pack. The land of and surrounding Beacon Hills had belonged to the Hale Pack for centuries. Lydia was certain if they’d been anything other than a mixed pack led by a werewolf, The Council would have never stepped in on the fae’s behalf in the first place.

Onchu made her uncomfortable. She didn’t like the way he could speak in her mind, keeping their conversation private. He seemed to find the pack amusing, and that alone pissed her off. The McCall Pack might be a ragtag group of high school kids and a couple of twenty something’s, but they weren’t a _joke_. They were still here, still fighting, even after losing so much. How _dare_ they suggest that she just act as a bystander, letting her pack members succumb to their deaths? Not being able to save Allison was Lydia’s only regret. _Nothing_ would ever compare to the pain she’d felt that night in the tunnels. And Onchu just expected her to live it over and over again, watching the people she loved die off one by one. The idea alone made her sick to her stomach.

“Well that was fun.” Stiles’ voice jerked her from her thoughts, her eyes focusing back in on her surroundings. Isaac and Stiles were still in the same spots, though Derek and Scott had moved to the other couch, sitting on opposite ends. Lydia moved without questioning it, pushing herself out of the chair and crossing the floor to sit between Derek and Scott.

“You alright?” Scott asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest. She shrugged, letting Derek lift her feet onto his lap, thumbs rubbing soft circled into her ankles.

“So what now?” Isaac asked, even though he didn’t really sound all that concerned. Never did. It was an admirable skill. Lydia sighed and rubbed her cheek against Scott’s shirt. She didn’t know what was going to happen next, and she didn’t really want to think about it.

“Derek needs to talk to you guys about something.” She said instead of answering Isaac, smirking when the fingers around her ankle tightened. Pushing herself off Scott, she leaned into Derek instead, patting his arm in reassurance. He glowered at her, but it didn’t hold any real heat.

“What if I wasn’t ready?” he grouched, practically pouting as he crossed his arms.

“Too bad sweetheart.” She grinned up at him, pleased when the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Fine.” He huffed, glaring up at the ceiling. “I can’t control my shift very well. I don’t remember what happens when I’m in wolf form. I wake up not knowing where I’d been for hours. I think my anchor is slipping.” The words sounded almost rehearsed, practically emotionless. Lydia noticed that he didn’t mention the wolf’s desire to be near her, but she wasn’t about to bring that up either.

“What do you mean, _your anchor’s slipping_?” Stiles leaned his elbows on his knees, his eyes getting that glint they had when he was trying to solve a problem.

“Anger doesn’t keep me human anymore.”

“‘Cause you’re not angry.” Scott added softly, his expression gentle. Derek of course, was too busy trying to laser his way through the ceiling with his eyes to notice.

“Derek was at my house last night in wolf form when Onchu visited. He had some trouble shifting back.” Derek turned to look at her sharply, and she realized he didn’t remember that part.

“That’s why you wanted to know his middle name?” Stiles snorted. “Did you try throwing clothes at him?”

“Yes.” She glared at him when he laughed. “It didn’t work.”

“Well what did?” Scott inquired softly. Derek tensed up, once hand falling to squeeze her knee. She glanced up at him, surprised to find his eyes wide and vulnerable. He didn’t even _remember_.

“I can’t be sure what triggered it.” She explained. That wasn’t a _lie_. “It just kind of happened.” She clapped her hands and stood. “Let’s go get breakfast!”

The weird looks from Scott, Stiles and Isaac were all worth it for the quiet _thank you_ Derek whispered against her ear.

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure how she knew, but it was apparent to Lydia that Onchu was gone for the time being. He would be back, that was certain, but for now… It was like she hasn’t realized she’d been in tune to his presence until it was gone. Life could go back to normal now for the time being.

Except…

She couldn’t stop thinking about Derek.

Some of her thoughts were important, relevant. Like, _why was he having trouble with the shift? What could he use as a new anchor? Could he be his own anchor like Scott? Could the pack be his anchor? Why was his wolf form drawn to Lydia?_ But they tended to snowball from there. _Did his wolf’s desires reflect his own desires? Would Derek ever be interested in her? If he was, would she return the feeling? Yes. The answer to that is yes._ She thought about the color of his eyes, and the heat of his body beside hers while they watched movies. She remembered how big he’d seemed in her bedroom, taking up so much space yet not seeming out of place. She wondered if he ever thought about her in the same way.

Leaving her window open at night was probably not a good idea. But she did it anyways, unconcerned with the consequences. Maybe she liked the idea of Derek keeping an eye on her. Sometimes she imagined him there, lying beside her in her bed in the middle of the night. She never said anything, never did anything, because she’s rather live in the fantasy then have it vanish before her eyes. In the morning her bed was always empty, and the window was still open like she’d left it.

She didn’t want to really think about what the sinking feeling of disappointment meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! I hope this story is still making sense... my brain is starting to go in weird places but I think it'll all work out in the end :)  
> Some Notes:  
> The idea for the Cu Sith came for [this entry](http://teenwolf.tumblr.com/post/109604496086/cu-sith-coo-shee-the-cu-sith-is-an-ancient) in the TW Creature Feature contest. Jason Momoa is totally my casting choice for Onchu okay.
> 
> consigliore - An adviser, especially to a leader of an organized crime syndicate. (I can totally see Isaac being a trekkie just to piss Stiles off... Star Wars vs Star Trek would be a constant argument. They'd also argue about who was Spock to Scott's Kirk and who was Bones. As for Derek, all I could think of when writing this scene was that Parks and Rec ep with Andy handing out names and [ this fan art](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com/post/80790636508/kendrawcandraw-kendrawcandraw-someone-asked) (it's at the bottom))
> 
> My apologies that this chapter is a little short (i'm trying so hard to have good length chapters whenever I post, but sometimes I'm lame). Speaking of lame, I will try my HARDEST to have another chapter for Friday, but I may be late depending on my work schedule/level of inspiration.  
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed and are having a fantastic week!
> 
> XOXO - B <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FAIR WARNING, I JUST FINISHED THIS AND I'M LIKE HALF ASLEEP AND IT'S JUST KIND OF A FILLER CHAPTER SO... I'M SORRY FRIENDS (i will take a re-look at it tomorrow and fix the probably butt load of grammar mistakes so... if you want to wait and read, it might be a good plan).

The beginning of May brought uncomfortably warm temperatures to Beacon Hills, making the process of studying for AP exams all that much better. Lydia of course took full advantage, stretching out poolside with her books and notes (and a chilled cocktail) spread out around her. She didn’t necessarily get _tan_ , but she was determined to be something other than pasty white. (Look, she _knew_ how bad the sun was for her skin, and she always wore sunscreen, it was just the _idea_ that appealed to her). On this particular sweltering Friday afternoon, Stiles had joined in on her study session (they were the only two taking AP classes anyways). Which meant that Malia was splashing around in the pool being generally distracting, and Kira, Scott and Isaac would undoubtedly be arriving soon. It was kind of a tradition now, they’d all congregate at one house or another for the start of the weekend. Fridays were for pizza and campfires and vegging in front of the TV marathoning Big Bang Theory or Breaking Bad or Game of Thrones. Saturdays were date night designated, but whomever didn’t have plans with a romantic interest would end up sneaking into Jungle together or loitering around the Sheriff’s Station antagonizing Parrish and the Sheriff. Of course, this only happened when there wasn’t any supernatural emergencies going down, but it was as close to “normal” as they could get.

“Are you two nerds really studying on a Friday night?” Isaac inquired, practically _swaggering_ in that annoying way he had out of the house with a bottle of water hanging loosely in one hand.

“You do understand that our performance on these exams determines the number of college credits we can get right?” Lydia sniffed, not even looking up from her notes. A few stray droplets of water landed on her notebook, and she glared over the top, only to find Malia grinning cheekily at her from the pool. She looked _so_ innocent, submerged all the way to her chin. Lydia knew better. Before she could even comment, Isaac was flopping onto the lounge chair with her, long legs splayed over hers as he squirmed around until his face was pressed against her bare stomach.

“Get your nose out of the book and pet me,” he whined, his soft curls tickling her skin. Lydia sighed, trying as hard as she could to sound put out while carefully packing up her notes. In reality, there was nothing more she wanted to do than have a little fun with her friends. Even if it meant scratching Isaac’s stupid head.

“Oh thank fuck,” Stiles groaned, dropping his own books onto the patio with a loud thud. “Come on baby where’s my cuddles?” Lydia twisted her head to see Stiles with his arms held out wide, waggling his eyebrows at Malia (who scrambled out of the pool and flung herself, sopping wet, into Stiles’ arms). It quickly devolved into a tickle fight, as most things did with those two, but Lydia was content to run her fingers through Isaac's hair, tugging out the tiny knots and tangles.

“So what’s the deal with you and Derek?” Isaac mumbled, his lips catching and dragging across her skin. Lydia stopped the movement of her fingers, ignoring the screeching and squealing coming from the idiots next to her and glaring at the top of Isaac’s head.

“What are you talking about?” She could feel Isaac’s smirk pressing against her, but she fought the urge to pull on his hair or smack him in retaliation. Lydia _always_ made a point to touch Isaac, but only with love and positive intent. When she had been dating Jackson, she’d seen firsthand the horror that had been Isaac’s life before The Bite. The last thing she ever wanted was to see him hurt like that again. But God did he piss her off sometimes.

“Oh come on Lyds, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, not to mention that he goes to you in wolf form.” Isaac pushed himself up onto one elbow, smirking down at her. “Don’t let him tell you the human side and the wolf side are different entities. If there was one thing I learned in France, it was that the human and the wolf are one in the same. The wolf just acts on more primal desires.” Lydia sighed _again_ and raised an eyebrow.

“That’s great hun, you should add that to our bestiary.” Isaac rolled his eyes, undeterred, but she forged on before he could speak again. “There’s nothing going on between Derek and I.”

“But you wish there was,” Isaac stated, smarmy grin back in place. There was no way she could respond to that without outright lying or admitting to feelings she wasn’t even so sure of yet herself.

Because the thing was, she was fascinated with Derek. She wanted to listen to him talk about his childhood, about growing up in a pack of werewolves and all the stories and legends his mom used to tell him. She wanted to know what he looked like first thing in the morning, and if he’d look as good in her bed as she imagined he would.

And she’d dreamed of him in her bed almost every night. Sometimes he seemed so real, like if she reached out she’d feel the warm skin stretched tight across his bicep, the rough scrape of stubble on his jaw. She never did though, attempting to avoid the disappointment she knew would come when he ultimately disappeared before her eyes. Even more than that, Lydia was hesitant to start _anything_ with Derek (if it was even a possibility at all). She had decided on Claremont McKenna College (she was majoring in neuroscience), which was over six hours away near Los Angeles. When Jackson had left for London, she’d nixed the long distance thing instantly. She needed a physical relationship just as deeply as an emotional one. Six hours was quite the distance (she couldn’t even bring it up in front of Scott, Isaac and Stiles without them getting all weird and sad-eyed). And Derek… Derek seemed like a relationship kind of guy, as opposed to a hook-ups kind of dude. He always went from zero to hundred real fast with the women he dated. Lydia’s only had one _real_ boyfriend, Jackson. She didn’t do serious relationships, not unless she was 100% in.

The terrifying part, was that if something were to happen between her and Derek… she already knew she’d be all the way in.

They both deserved that much.

“You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?” The sound of Isaac’s teasing brought her back down to earth. She glared at him, before letting it fade into smugness.

“What can I say, it’s not like he’s unattractive… You know it’d be good.” Isaac tilted his head as if he was considering it, his lips pursed and his eyes going just a little unfocused.

“What would be good?” Scott’s voice came from behind Lydia’s chair.

“Sex with Derek,” Lydia and Isaac answered in unison, grinning at each other. Several things happened at once, including: Stiles squawking, Malia falling off her chair, Scott groaning, and Kira turning bright red.

“Ugh God guys, _why_ are you even thinking about that?” Scott asked between his fingers (that were covering his face). “You know he hates that people see him as a sex object.” Before Lydia even had a _chance_ to feel guilty, Isaac was jumping in.

“Well, that was really just me. I’m pretty sure Lydia was thinking about their future wedding.” Kira squealed with delight, clapping her hands excitedly as Lydia threw her head back and groaned.

“That is not-”

“Don’t lie in front of werewolves Lyds,” Malia grinned at her, sprawled out across the concrete patio. She hated them sometimes. Every single one of them.

* * *

 

Lydia realized that she was kind of a stick in the mud at this point. Apparently that’s what happens after spending large chunks of high school fighting supernatural creatures. She hadn’t been on a date since Aiden. It wasn’t just that she was mourning (which was a large portion of the reason, even though more than a year had passed now), but she couldn’t _relate_ to the guys she met anymore. Explaining her relationship with her pack was difficult enough (they definitely had some codependency issues), never mind what might happen if she woke up screaming or wandered around town in a haze. Instead she chose to keep to herself. There’s been a couple of one night stands, usually she’d go down to Sacramento and pick up a frat boy at a college bar. They were simple, easy, no strings attached, and as long as they managed to get her off, she was okay with it. For the most part though, she preferred to spend her Saturday nights at the Sheriff’s Station, hanging out with Parrish and any other pack members that wandered in.

She was currently stationed at Parrish’s desk, her APUSH notes spread out on top of all his case files. Jordan insisted that he had a “system”, but one of these days Lydia was going to go HAM on his desk and organize the hell out of it. Confidentiality be damned, his “system” pissed her off. Tonight was not the night though, she had more important things to worry about, like the detailed sketch she was working on. She was adamantly not thinking about _who_ the broad shoulders and narrow waist she’d drawn so far belonged to. The subject was not as important as the process and technique. Right?

“Isaac’s right, you are _such_ a nerd.”  Lydia glared up at Parrish, who was grinning at her from the other side of the desk. “What kind of teenager studies on a Saturday night?”

“The kind that gets into elite colleges,” she sniffed, attempting to nonchalantly cover her drawing with her arm. Parrish rolled his eyes and pulled over a chair, peeking over her shoulder like the nosy jerk he was.

“What’s that?” He asked, reaching for her notebook. Lydia hissed and tried to slap it shut, only to have Jordan’s hand block her. She tried to remain calm, taking deep breaths through her nose. There was no way he would _know_. There were no identifying marks drawn, no, let’s say, incriminating tattoos. It’d be fine. “Is this…” she could practically _hear_ the smirk in his voice. “Shit. Isaac wasn’t kidding.” Lydia just glared and yanked the notebook back. She wasn’t going to say a _word_. Jordan had a way of just letting a person talk until they incriminated themselves.

“I plead the fifth.” Okay, she had to say four words. Whatever.

“You know,” Jordan leaned back in his chair, feet landing on the desk, dangerously close to her arm. “I’m sure your _boyfriend_ would model for you.” Lydia ignored him, returning her attention to the notebook. She was sure she could get it right by memory. The distinct profile of _his_ features, the curves and shadows of his body. “I can’t wait to ask Big D about this.” Lydia froze, all her limbs stiffening before she turned jerkily to look at Parrish.

“Don’t.” she smacked him with a case file. “Breathe.” Smack. “A.” Smack. “Word.” Smack.

“That’s no way to treat an officer of the law!” He protested, half wrestling the file from her grip. “I think I like you better when you just stared at me in awe.” Lydia snorted, primly adjusting her skirt and turning back to her sketch.

“I think I liked _you_ better before you started hanging out with Isaac and Stiles and gossiping. Back in the day when you left me alone.”

“You’re at _my_ desk missy! At least I’m not chicken like you, too afraid your boyfriend might find out that you like….. Heyyyyyy Der!” Lydia stared hard at her paper, refusing to look up. She figured Jordan was teasing her, trying to get a reaction for nothing.

“Don’t fuck with me.” She growled, pressing a little too hard while tracing the triskele tattoo. There was no answer from Jordan. She waited thirty more seconds, shading in the hair at the base of the neck, before looking up. At Derek. Lurking. In the doorway.

Some things never change.

“Derek.” She raised an eyebrow, refusing to show any physical visible reaction. Even if Derek could hear her heart stumbling, fucking Jordan didn’t need to know. Of course, Derek just did a little eyebrow dance right back at her, clearly thinking she understood his purpose. She didn’t.

“Whatcha up to D?” Jordan asked after a moment of awkward silence. Lydia had a feeling, judging by the smirk on his face, that he thought they were silently communicating or something. Which no. The opposite had been happening, a whole lot of non-communication.

“I’m here to pick up Lydia.” Derek replied slowly, as if it was obvious. Jordan was definitely smirking now, but Lydia refused to react. She didn’t blush, okay. Also, how the hell did Derek get off on acting like she should know what the hell he was talking about? Isaac had offered to come pick her up, then the two of them were going to sneak into Jungle later.

“That little fucker,” she hissed, reaching for her phone. There were eight missed texts, all from Isaac. He’d managed to get a date with _Danny_ and was totally ditching her. And using an excessive amount of emojis to let her know that Derek would come get her. Asshole.

When she looked up again, Derek’s eyes had shuddered, mouth set in its signature scowl. Lydia frowned, overcome with a sudden urge to bring Derek’s rare smile back. Or at least soften the harsh line of his mouth and cheeks. “I missed some texts from Isaac,” she explained to Parrish, waving her phone at him as she stood up. “Thanks for picking me up Derek.” She smiled at him as she packed up her books and notes. His scowl gentled, just a little bit, and she took that as a win. Not _daring_ to look back at Jordan, she marched towards Derek.

“I’ll see you two _cuties_ later!” Jordan called after them anyways. Lydia flipped him off behind her back, but Derek’s eye rolling made her smile. It was funny, how he could do that.

 

* * *

 

Derek felt unsettles. He didn’t like the way his heart felt heavy, the way his stomach seemed to twist, his chest too tight. Lydia didn’t seem to notice, her legs crossed primly as she stared straight ahead out the windshield. Her scent calmed him a little, but not enough to get rid of what he recognized as the cold, hard jealousy coursing through his blood. But he had _heard_ Jordan talking about Lydia’s boyfriend, and the way he said it, his _tone_ made Derek think that he was teasing her. Which made him think that _Jordan_ was her boyfriend. They obviously had chemistry, and Derek could remember picking up on their interest in each other last year, during the time of the dead pool. He hadn’t noticed it recently, but maybe he’d been too caught up in his own drama. FUCK it pissed him off. He didn’t _want_ that feeling.

“So… why was Isaac picking you up?” He asked her, hoping to distract himself. Lydia shrugged, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs.

“We were gonna go back to my house, I was going to play dress up with that real life ken doll, and then we were going to go to Jungle.” She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Derek longed to do the same, to wrap locks of it around his fingers, to fill his nose with the scent of honeysuckle shampoo. “But the asshole ditched me for _Danny_.”

“Are you and Isaac dating?”

Lydia glanced sharply at him, a crease appearing between her brows.

“Um no? Why would you ask that?”

“I dunno,” Derek felt his ears pinking up. “You’re just awful chummy now.” Yeah. This was going great.

“Who even says chummy anymore?” Lydia snorted. “If you must know… When Isaac came back from France, Scott and I brought him to Allison’s grave.” Derek instantly wanted to take back his question, his stomach dropping with familiar guilt. “We ended up laying on the ground crying like babies. But… it gave Isaac and I a fresh start. We stick together.” It was silent in the car for a moment, the glow of the street lights flickering across Lydia’s pretty face. “Hey, um,” when he glanced over at her, she was staring at her lap and chewing on her lip. “Do you have any plans tonight?” Derek hated the hope that filled him, the low current of excitement thrumming like electricity through his bones.

“No… why?” He attempted to sound cool. There was a 95% chance he failed.

“I just… can we go back to the loft? I’m not ready to be alone yet.”

Derek nodded, of course he did. There would never come a day when he could deny Lydia Martin. Except…

“You’re not hanging out with Jordan later?”

“Um… no?” She was frowning at him again, and that was the opposite of what he wanted.

“Aren’t you guys dating?”

Lydia laughed outright at that, throwing her head back against the seat, exposing the long line of her throat. Derek wanted to lick and bite and mark her, his eyes flashing blue. God, he was in way too fucking deep.

“Derek, you crack me up.” She smirked at him, wiping at her eyes. “Can you stop interrogating me about my nonexistent love life, and take me to your apartment instead?” Derek glared, but predictably, he complied.

Two hours later found him in his kitchen, glaring at the microwave.

“Don’t burn my popcorn Der!” Lydia yelled from the couch. Derek glared harder. He could picture her in his head, spread out on his couch, her tiny body dwarfed by the sweatpants and t-shirt she’d borrowed.

“Maybe you could come out here and make your own damn popcorn Princess!” He yelled back, smirking when she huffed. It was followed by the sound of her soft footsteps, almost dancing across the wood floors.

“You’re such an ass,” she grumbled, hip checking him out of the way just in time to whip the popcorn out. Derek just ruffled her hair, grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge and heading back to the living room. Lydia followed close on his heels, flopping onto the couch beside him. She squirmed around, pulling at his arms until she was comfortably tucked against his side. He gave in to temptation and briefly nosed at her hair, breathing deeply. For the first night since pack movie night, he just _knew_ he wouldn’t be shifting. Both his human side and his wolf side were completely content.

Deep down he knew what it meant, he knew what this could be, but he was trying to ignore it. But it was hard to when he was watching the fucking Notebook. (Okay, so maybe he secretly loved the Notebook and watched it whenever he was sad, but no one else needed to ever know that. Sue him). It didn’t matter anyways, because somehow they’d gone from talking about her AP exams, to Lydia declaring that he _had_ to watch this damn movie and forcing him to give her his netflix password. Even so, it surprised him how easy it was to be with her. They’d never spent much time alone before, but it wasn’t _awkward_. Lydia just… got him. She let him take his time to think, and she didn’t assume he was dumb just because he didn’t talk. They actually had intelligent conversations. He really like it. And hey, if he and Lydia ended up falling asleep on the couch together, legs and arms entangled, he wouldn’t be complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll have some more action for you on Tuesday! Party on this weekend! 
> 
> XOXO - B


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting early as an apology for Friday's chapter! I will try my hardest to get two more chapters done this week, but I can't make any promises. BUT tomorrow is our first MOONDAY so we can all celebrate that as well :) (you can all join me in ignoring the fact that the hunkiest of all werewolves will not be present)

Lydia tapped the eraser on the end of her pencil against her lower lip, checking her original outline against the essay she had just completed on the start of democracy in the United States. The sound of pencils scratching against paper and the occasional cough filled the air around her, the only breeze coming from the ancient fan Mr. Yukimura had set up in the corner for them before handing the class over to Mr. Harris to proctor the exam. She could distinguish Stiles’ erratic foot tapping beside her, his sneaker squeaking every fifth kick, the sound of his pencil going frantic for seconds at a time before stopping completely. Lydia knew she was the first to finish, always was. Besides, US History was easy, she could write persuasive essays in her sleep. She glanced up at the clock, trying to decide if she should hand it in now, or if she had finished _too_ fast. There was about forty five minutes left in the exam period so she glanced at Stiles out of the corner of her eye. It looked like he was on the second essay question, about halfway through. That was enough to convince her she was good, neatly stacking her test booklet and answer section, and heading up to Harris. Their chem professor pointed towards the designated boxes, and Lydia set her things inside, resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she grabbed her purse from the front. She glanced over her shoulder at Stiles, who held five fingers up against his thigh under the desk. Nodding once, she slipped out into the empty hall to wait for him.

Stiles had picked her up for school that morning, something they’d both agreed on at the beginning of the class back in January. They both got really intense the morning before exams, and neither of them wanted to deal with Malia or Kira being you know, _happy_ , while they were getting into the zone. So Kira had picked up Malia, and Lydia and Stiles had rode to school together in tense silence, blurting out practice questions every few minutes. It was a relief to have it over with, now she just had AP exams to take for English and Physics, and then she’d be done.

She pulled her phone out of her purse, secretly hoping that maybe Derek had texted her. Every time she thought about Saturday night, she couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across her face. It turned out that Derek was actually really fun to hang out with. He wasn’t afraid to tease her, even if she _did_ catch him whispering along with Noah under his breath during the Notebook. The last few nights she had dragged Stiles with her over to the loft to study, because Derek had admitted to being about six credits away from a degree in US History from Columbia University. He had helped them study, even as he maintained an annoying air of superiority the entire time (Lydia was pretty sure he enjoyed the whole thing though). It was obvious to her that the three of them shared the desire to learn, the need to be constantly expanding their knowledge and finding answers.

Unfortunately, there were no missed texts from Derek. She pushed her disappointment down deep inside herself, trying to focus on the more alarming three missed calls from Scott, plus ten text messages. She could feel her heart start to speed up in her chest, the low level of panic that was always thrumming through her body beginning to swell like a wave.

 

**FROM SCOTT: derek’s stuck in shift**

**FROM SCOTT: why aren’t you or stiles answering**

**FROM SCOTT: fuck im sorry forgot bout exam.**

**FROM SCOTT: just come to derek’s after**

**FROM SCOTT: don’t bother calling**

**FROM SCOTT: he’s wicked twitchy**

**FROM SCOTT: his ears perk up every time we say your name**

**FROM SCOTT: lydia and derek sitting in a tree k-i-s-snkaewjbvhoak[**

**FROM SCOTT: sorry that was Isaac**

**FROM SCOTT: just text me when ur on your way**

 

Lydia sighed and leaned against the lockers. She considered telling Scott to just try touching him, which had worked for her last time, but she didn’t want to embarrass Derek. Plus, she wasn’t even sure if that was really why he had changed back. What if it didn't work, and Isaac and Scott were just left awkwardly petting Derek?

Everything with Derek was just so… unsettled. Whenever she was with him, there was this charge coursing through her, urging her to just _touch_. She never did, she wasn’t about to touch someone without permission, but every time he touched _her_ , the electricity settled. It was eerie almost, and disconcerting to say the least. She wasn’t used to needing to touch someone in order to be comfortable with them. Luckily Derek didn’t seem to mind her proximity, in fact she had suspicions that he was a serious cuddler. The werewolves seemed to be instinctively more tactile anyways, and she imagined that born wolves grew up with lots of platonic snuggling.

 

“Let’s go get drunk!” Stiles burst out of the classroom, his face split into a relieved grin. Lydia rolled her eyes and started walking towards the doors.

“It’s a Wednesday Stiles,” she admonished. “Plus, we’ve got a Derek Halemergency.” She handed him her phone in lieu of explaining, watching as his expression grew pinched.

“Aww fuck.” He tossed her phone back, pushing the door open with his hip. “I can’t even have this one moment of happiness huh? Fucking Hale always ruining it.”

“Hey, it’s not his fault!” Lydia defended Derek automatically. She looked down at her phone, using the excuse of texting Scott to avoid Stiles’ knowing look.

“Maybe I’ll just drop you off,” Stiles grinned at her as he held the passenger door of the Jeep open. “You’re all that’s needed.” Lydia glared at him as she climbed in, arranging her skirt carefully over her thighs.

“Why would you even say that?” Stiles waited to answer until he’d jumped into the passenger seat, the tired engine roaring to life. He gave her this _look_ first, the kind that made her want to punch him in the face.

“Hate to break it to ya Lyds, but I’m like 65% sure you’re his anchor.”

What.

Except… No. No way.

She had to say _something_ to break the silence though. “65% isn’t very reassuring.” Stiles rolled his whole head in exasperation, the Jeep swerving slightly as he jammed the shifter into third gear.

“Well I’m just not positive. I don’t think he’s accepted it yet. I mean, Isaac said he’s been coming to you in his wolf form, and Scott said the woods behind your house smelled like he passed through almost every night. It’s like old school Hale creepiness honestly. Maybe the wolf has chosen you, but the human side hasn’t figured it out. We both know how thick headed Derek can be. Obviously, if he’d like settled on it, he wouldn’t be getting stuck as a fucking dog like an overgrown idiot.” Lydia let that all settle for a moment, her brain working to realign itself with all this new information. It did make sense. She was a little disappointed that she hadn’t put it together earlier. The only thing that didn’t fit was the fact that he’d chosen _her_. Scott’s first anchor had been Allison, and she had been Jackson’s, and then Scott had been able to anchor to himself and his pack. But Derek… it didn’t fit.

“Why me though?” She asked. “It doesn’t really make sense.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted, pushing one hand through his hair. “I don’t… I mean, we have no way of knowing what he’s thought about you for all these years, but I’ve always kind of gotten the impression that he had at the very least this like immeasurable amount of respect for you. Like I know a lot of time it’s like love interests and shit, and who fucking knows, this could be too, but maybe you’re just something stable for him. I mean, you _did_ predict his death. That’s got to have some kind of connection to his humanity right?”

Lydia blinked at the windshield, feeling unbalanced as they pulled up in front of Derek’s loft. This whole thing felt like a huge responsibility, and she wasn’t sure if she could bear the burden. Not that she’d ever have to _do_ anything. But it still meant that she would have to be a stabilizing presence in Derek’s life, and that was the problem. She didn’t even understand what she _was_ , how could she anchor Derek? Solemnly she followed Stiles up the stairs to the loft, the silence heavy between them. They paused outside of the door, and Stiles turned to look at her seriously.

“You know, you should probably just talk to him.” Lydia nodded, and slid the door open.

She caught just a glimpse of wolf Derek, and then he was transforming, the air seeming to shimmer around him as bones cracked and muscles reshaped themselves into human Derek. He remained crouched on the floor, blinking rapidly, until Scott handed him a towel. Lydia couldn’t help but stare as he stood and wrapped the towel around his hips. Holy God did she _want_. The familiar charge was back beneath her skin, and all she wanted was to run her hands along his bare skin, to fit her body up against his and have his strong arms wrapped around her.

Derek disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few moments later dressed in jeans and a worn t-shirt. Three months ago, Lydia probably wouldn’t have noticed anything, but now, the fact that he was avoiding eye contact with _her_ specifically was obvious. It felt like a knife to the gut, twisting and sending tingles of pain zinging through her body with the charge of electric _desire_.

“I’m starting to be more aware while in wolf form,” Derek said quietly, his arms crossed defensively. “I think… I just need some time, okay?” He was looking at Scott, but the dismissal was clear. Lydia knew it was irresponsible to get _angry_ , it wasn’t like they really had anything between them, but God, he pissed her off. He should know by now that keeping things internal wasn’t helping anyone. Regardless, she spun on her heel, not wanting to hear anything else.

“Come on Stiles, let’s go get drunk.” She grabbed his wrist and half dragged him back to the Jeep. Obviously the quickest solution to her inner turmoil was a bottle of tequila.

* * *

 

Lydia wasn’t sure what woke her up Friday morning. It could’ve been the sun streaming through her window, the birds chirping, or maybe it was the heavy arm wrapped around her waist. She didn’t really care, too comfortable to do much more than snuggle into the big body wrapped around her. A contented sigh slipped through her lips at the feel of stubble rough cheeks rubbing sleepily against the back of her neck. She’d give anything to wake up every morning like this.

She froze, staring down at the big hand splayed across her belly, two fingers pressing against the strip of bare skin between her tank top and sleep shorts. She _knew_ those hands, _knew_ who those corded forearms belonged to. And she had most certainly gone to bed alone last night. What. The. Fuck.

Trying not to totally freak out, she slipped out from under the arm in question, sitting up and turning to confirm her suspicions. Yup. That was definitely Derek Hale in her bed. Tentatively, she reached out with one finger, poking his shoulder. Yup. He was real, and he was not disappearing. She watched as his hips shifted lazily, her mouth going dry as the comforter slipped even lower, revealing the jut of his hip bones. She was so fucked. And Derek Hale was fucking naked in her bed. His eyes fluttered open, hazy green in the early morning light. They focused in on her, comprehension slowly appearing on his face.

“Fuck.” He groaned, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “I need to go.”

That mother fucker was going to make a run for it.

Lydia moved quickly, pouncing on him, her knees bracketing his thighs, her hands pushing at his shoulders.

“Oh no you don’t mister.” She hissed, doing her best to ignore the whole naked hot man beneath her thing. At least his lower half was still covered. Even so, she _clearly_ did not think this whole thing through. “We are talking about this.”

Derek didn’t answer. He just glared at the ceiling, his body practically trembling beneath her. Frowning, Lydia made the mistake of glancing down to where the comforter was visibly tenting in front of her. She knew the “fuck” that slipped out sound like a punched out moan, but she couldn’t help it. Just like she couldn’t control the waves of interest and arousal that she was sure was rolling off her like a tsunami. She swallowed hard before slowly dragging her eyes up over Derek’s twitching abs, the chest hair smattered across his pecs, the collarbones and neck she just wanted to _bite_ , to his eyes. They were burning brilliantly blue, his nostrils flared as he obviously breathed in the smell of her _want_. Her skin felt like it was burning, like she needed to be touching him in every way possible, needed to feel the drag of his body against hers. “Want me to help you out with that?” Her lips moved without permission, but God did she want to do it anyways. She could blow his fucking mind, and judging by the way Derek’s hips jerked in an aborted thrust, he knew it too.

“No.” The firmness of his voice had her ripping her eyes away from his dick, only to find his own eyes back to their normal blue/gray/green/gold. “No.” He repeated again, grabbing her arms and easily depositing her beside him on the bed. She fought the urge to pout as he sat up and carefully arranged himself so that his morning wood was way less apparent. It was only a matter of time before she came back to her senses and was overcome with mortification, but she didn’t want to think about it.

“Wait a minute,” she turned her head to glare at him through narrowed eyes. “I thought I was fucking dreaming for the past two weeks. But I haven’t. You’ve been in my bed almost every night!” Derek’s ears turned pink but he smirked at her.

“Having dreams about me in your bed is on par for you?” Lydia didn’t go for the bait, instead shifting on the bed until she sat cross legged, facing him directly.

“We’re talking about you here Hale, not me. So let’s go, spill.” Derek huffed, but he wasn’t scowling, not yet, so she took that as a good sign.

“I’m not really sure honestly,” he said quietly, tracing patterns on the comforter with his fingers.

“Stiles thinks I’m your anchor.” Lydia offered, watching the flicker of fear that passed through his eyes. “It’s okay, if I am.” She added gently, fighting back the urge to touch him, to comfort.

“I…” his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I think that my wolf side wants you to be that for me. I just…” He reached for her hand, cradling it carefully in his own. “I think it might be because I quite literally associate you with my humanity. You helped find me in Mexico, you stayed with me when I was aged back, and you predicted my death… To me, dying is the most human thing I could do and just… I can’t explain it, Lydia.” He squeezed her hand, and the sound of her name on his lips made her heart swell with a heady mixture of desire and affection. She threaded her fingers more firmly with his, tightening her grip before meeting his eyes.

“You don’t have to explain it to me Der,” she whispered, letting her lips lift into a small smile. “I’d rather be associated with your humanity than with death anyways.” She was rewarded with one of Derek’s shy smiles, her heart beat tripping in response. God, she was so fucked.

Derek released her hand and leaned back against the headboard, lifting his arms and crossing them behind his neck. Lydia had to forcibly drag her gaze away from his body and back to his now smirking face. Damn werewolves and their fucking super senses.

“I’m much more aware in wolf form now, and I can remember what I’ve been doing pretty clearly,” he said conversationally, looking all too pleased with himself.

“Well that’s good,” Lydia began to fidget, suddenly uncomfortable in her own bed. Because Derek was naked. And he’d turned her down. And they’d just had a serious conversation. And she hadn’t been in a situation like this well, ever.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Derek asked lightly. Lydia narrowed her eyes as his biceps and then his pectorals jumped. Mother fucker.

“Are you fucking with me?” Derek grinned, letting his arms drop to his sides, which only made his pectorals look more impressive.

“I just think it’s funny that you’re only comfortable when you’re in control.”

She stared at him for a moment, letting her lips slowly curl into a leer.

“Aww Der,” she patted his cheek before climbing gracefully off the bed. Turning her back to him, she slowly pulled her tank top over her head. She tossed it in his direction, smirking over her shoulder. “It’s funny that you think I’m ever _not_ in control.” Then she pushed her shorts over her hips, leaving the naked back of her body on full display. Looking back at him once more, she winked before walking towards her bathroom, hips swinging exaggeratedly. She was 98% sure she didn’t make up the low moan that followed her.

* * *

 

Derek let his head fall back against the headboard with a loud thump. He really did know better than to get into some kind of sexual game of chicken with Lydia Martin, and yet here he was. There was a part of him (the majority, really), that wanted to follow her into the bathroom and get their bodies all wrapped up together under the warm spray of the shower. The rest of him, however, was screaming to escape, to run away and just _think_ about what was happening without Lydia’s scent flooding his senses and making him loopy. This thing with Lydia, no matter how light hearted they kept it, was deadly serious. He needed her now, and he had no idea what would happen if their relationship became anything _less_ than what it was. Becoming _more_ wouldn’t be a problem, he knew that for sure. But if he had learned anything in his life, it was that sex had a way of screwing things up. Even if Lydia wasn’t his anchor (which… that was still something he really needed to come to terms with honestly), he would probably prefer to have her company, sans sex, than to have a wild night of passion only for them to break up or stop speaking. This wasn’t a situation that could be approached lightly.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun with it though. Spotting her phone on the bedside table, he grabbed it and crawled out of bed. He strolled over to her vanity, stopping once he was close enough that the view in the mirror cut off just below his belly button. After digging through her make-up, he found a tube of lipstick that looked old (and in his opinion an awful color) so he uncapped it and wrote Hale - 1, Martin - 0 across the top of the mirror. Then he pushed a hand through his hair and smirked at his reflection, snapping a picture on Lydia’s phone. He could hear her finishing up in the shower, so he hastily set the picture as her background, and put the phone back in its original spot. Still grinning (he was an immature child and he accepted that fact), he shifted back into a wolf, and leapt out her window.

He was still pleased with himself when he slipped back into the loft, feeling almost light headed from running through the still cool morning air in wolf form. Something was off, he thought, as he stepped into his own shower. But he couldn’t smell anything, couldn’t hear anything, so maybe it was fine. Even so, he showered quickly, toweling off in a haste. He wrapped the towel around his hips and threw open the bathroom door.

And then everything went black.

* * *

 

Lydia was running late. Fucking Derek had made her fucking late to school. And of course, Kira had wanted to see her, so she hadn’t rode in to school with her dad, so now both of them were going to be late. All because one stupid, stupidly hot werewolf had decided to show up in her bed naked. Not to mention that he _ruined_ one of her lipsticks by writing on her mirror. The message didn’t even make sense anyways. If anything, _she_ had won that round. He had basically ran away!

“Can you text Stiles from my phone and tell him we’re running late?” she asked Kira, nodding towards her phone in the center console. “Maybe he’ll create a diversion for us.” Kira complied, reaching for the phone. She froze suddenly, her cheeks flaming bright red as she stared at it. Lydia frowned. What the hell was going on? “Kir?” Kira flushed impossibly brighter, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words.

“Oh! I um… I didn’t realize that um you and er Derek were um together?”

“That fucking jack ass,” Lydia hissed, grabbing her phone back. “We are _not_.” She groaned at the sight of her phone background, fucking naked Derek Hale, standing quite obviously in her bedroom, with the stupid scoreboard. He even looked fucked out, his fingers tugging on his messy hair, eyes still a little sleepy, that fucking smirk. God she hated him.

“Are you sure?” Kira asked, looking confused. Which she probably was. Lydia was pretty sure Kira and Scott were taking things slow, really building their relationship up. Kira probably hadn’t seen Scott naked until a couple of months ago. Personally, Lydia thought Scott and Kira’s relationship was adorable, and she admired how well trust and love were woven in with their attraction to each other. It was something she could see lasting.

“Oh yes, believe me.” She handed the phone back so Kira could text Stiles. “It’s very complicated right now, but long story short, we think I’m Derek’s anchor.” Kira frowned as she typed on the phone.

“So… part of being an anchored to you is taking weird naked pictures of himself on your phone… in your room?” She was blushing again, and Lydia fought the urge to pinch her cheeks.

“Well no…” Lydia sighed, wishing she could scrub a hand across her eyes and not ruin her make-up. “Derek’s being an ass.” Kira didn’t look all that convinced, but she was saved from further explanation by their arrival at school. Stiles had pulled through, and managed to start some kind of Beacon Hills school spirit parade through the hallways, giving the girls time to slip into their first period classes undetected.

The rest of the day passed by in a haze. Lydia knew she should be focusing, she had two more exams next week, and she wanted to pay attention to any of the tips her teachers had to offer. At first she blamed her distracted manner on Derek, and the fact that it was a Friday with only a couple more weeks of school. But as the day wore on, this strange _tugging_ at her subconscious continued. It was as if a fishing line had been hooked through her spine, and someone was checking it every few minutes, just a gentle pull to make sure they were still connected. By the time she got home that afternoon, she was exhausted. Her mom had left a note on the counter, saying she was down in Napa Valley for the weekend with her girls. Lydia just dropped her bag next to it on the counter, and collapsed face first onto the couch. She fell asleep instantly, her dreams filled with chaos and wolves and _Derek_. She didn’t know how long she slept, if it was only a few minutes or if hours had passed. The last thing she remembered from her dream was Onchu, leering at her in human form.

“The Council wants you to come get your _wolf_ Bean Sìth.”

And then she screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I'll probably be live blogging the new episodes of Teen Wolf if you want to come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Thanks for being awesome!
> 
> XOXO - Beth


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is some blood and gore in this chapter. There's not like an in depth description of what happens, but there is a lot of blood. (Read the end note if you want to know what actually happens before reading)

Lydia slowly blinked back to consciousness, not at all surprised to find Scott kneeling beside her. He always came to her when she screamed, arriving faster than should be possible, gripping her hands as she came back into the real world. “Lydia, Lydia, look at me.” She swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Scott’s eyes burned red, that familiar alpha power jolting her back to reality. “Are you okay?” His big hand stroked slowly up and down her arm, her heartbeat slowing to match the calming rhythm. She noticed belatedly that Kira and Isaac were there too, shifting uncomfortably behind Scott.

“Yeah I’m fine,” her voice scratched against her throat, like it always did after she screamed. Her throat clicked as she swallowed, gratefully accepting the glass of water Kira handed her.

And then she remembered.

“Derek.” Her eyes flew open, and she scrambled to her feet. “We need to go _now_.” Scott grabbed her arm, stopping her from storming out the door.

“Lydia. Lydia.” His dark eyes flared red again, freezing her to the spot. “What happened?”

“The Council has Derek. We need to go. Now!” She pushed past him, filled with sheer determination. Things with Derek had been… good. She wasn’t about to let the fucking Council take him from her. Not now. Too many good things have been taken from her already. “Fairy ring. Now.”

Ten minutes later, the four of them were joined by Stiles and Malia at the former site of the Hale House. (Lydia had just gone tearing through the woods, followed by the very confused Scott, Isaac and Kira).

“So um, anyone care to explain why we are looking for this fucking fairy circle right now?” Stiles huffed from somewhere behind her as they hiked through the forest.

“The Council took Derek.” Scott said quietly, followed by some mumbling from Stiles sounded an awful lot like _of fucking course they did_. Lydia couldn’t bring herself to respond. She could still feel that tugging against her spine, and she wasn’t sure if it was related to her banshee powers or something to do with being Derek’s anchor. There was a part of her that clung to the idea that it was Derek, that as long as she could feel pressure on the string he was alive and grounded.

She stopped and threw out her arms, keeping the pack from trampling the ring. To the uneducated observer, it would just look like a naturally occurring circle of mushrooms. But Lydia knew better. Under most circumstances she avoided this place like the plague, not wanting anything to do with fairies or The Council and all their nonsense.

“Here’s the plan.” Lydia knew her voice sounded off, deadly even. “Kira is going to come through with me.” She held up a hand to stop the arguments she knew were forthcoming. “Stiles, I know you mean well, but your presence will be nothing but detrimental. And the rest of you know how The Council feels about werewolves.” There was a moment of silence, and then Scott nodded.

“Okay. But if you aren’t back in an hour, we’re coming in.” He paused, brown eyes warm and earnest. “And I love you both, okay?”

“Kira?” Lydia held her hand out to the kitsune, smiling tightly when her friend joined her. Kira smiled back, katana strapped to her back. Together they stepped into the circle.

 

“Where are we?” Kira whispered. Lydia blinked into the darkness, trying to shake off the lingering feeling of wrongness that always remained after traveling through a fairy ring.

“This way,” Lydia murmured, pulling Kira along by the hand, following the increasingly frantic _tugging_ on her subconscious. “I can feel it.” Not for the first time Lydia was thankful for Kira’s trusting manner, following her through the dark tunnels they had arrived in, katana gripped tightly in her right hand. They were running steadily up hill, the tunnel getting lighter and brighter the farther they went.

The low murmur of voices floated towards them from up ahead, and Lydia stumbled to a stop.

“Stay hidden,” she whispered, her face only inches from Kira’s. “I need you to be a surprise. I’ll try and work the room to our advantage.” Kira nodded in understanding, reaching out and wrapping one hand around the back of Lydia’s neck. She mirrored the action, her stomach dropping and heart swelling simultaneously like they always did whenever she partook in the pack’s pre-battle ritual. She pressed her forehead to Kira’s, her eyes slipping closed.

“Be brave but not stupid,” the whispered in unison, eyes opening as they smiled.

“Love you Kir,” Lydia murmured softly.

“Love you too Lyds,” Kira replied, pushing gently on her shoulder. “Now go get Derek back.” Steeling her nerve, Lydia took a deep breath and walked into the lion’s den.

She held her head high as she stepped into what she immediately recognized as The Council’s chambers. The entire room was stone, with high, narrow windows letting in an eerie blue light. Torches burned on the walls, and Lydia shivered, hating that Derek was exposed to open flame. She had entered into the side of the room, a long table set up on her left. The Council. She ignored them for the moment, her attention drawn to the right, where Derek paced in wolf form. He froze when she moved towards him, his eyes flashing blue in what she perceived as recognition.

“Derek,” she breathed, breaking into a jog. She was intercepted by two strong arms, the sound of Derek’s growl echoing through the room as she was carried to stand in front of the table. “Put me down!” She demanded, elbowing her captor hard in the stomach. She recognized the chuckle in her ear, glaring hard at Onchu once he set her down.

“Ms. Martin, how wonderful to see you again.” Lydia directed her glare to the Council, settling on the vampire who was speaking to her. He was the unofficial head of the council as the oldest member. He had begun his human life in the early 1200’s, born in a jungle village in central Africa. He was almost unnaturally handsome, as all vamps tended to be while in human form. His name was Zuberi, his skin dark like the night but almost glowing from within in a way that meant he had fed recently. Lydia hated him.

“I wish I could say the same about you,” she spat, crossing her arms tightly. “Let’s just get this over with.” Zuberi grinned, his fangs glinting in the torchlight.

“Of course.” Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see two guards move towards Derek. “It has come to our attention that you have been interfering with the deaths that you predict.” Behind her Derek growled low and long, a warning. She prayed that he was lucid, that his human side was in there, in control.

“I told him,” she jerked her chin towards Onchu, “and I’ll tell you all.” She glared at each of the fifteen members of The Council individually. “I _refuse_ to let innocent people die.” Zuberi chuckled, slowly joined by the rest of The Council. She could feel it building, deep in her chest. She felt like screaming.

“We have a deal to propose to you Ms. Martin,” Zuberi continued, voice smooth and slow like honey. Her scream was coming, crawling its way up her throat. _No. No. No._ “You allow the next death you scream for, and we’ll leave you and your little pack alone.” Behind her, Derek’s growl faded into a high pitched whine.

Lydia threw her head back and screamed.

* * *

 

Derek flinched as something warm and metallic splattered across his face. He was alive. Lydia had screamed, and for the second time he was still alive. Focusing on the slow thump of her heart across the room, he shifted back, not even feeling the breaking and healing of his bones and muscles. He was on his hands and knees, puddle of dark, warm blood growing steadily around him. The room was deathly silent, and when Derek lifted his head he found a very familiar sword still vibrating where it had stuck between two stones in the wall. Derek smiled. Kira.

“Deal’s a deal boys.” He turned towards the sound of Lydia’s voice, the waiver of nerves and exhaustion barely detectable. The Council seemed stunned, all fifteen pairs of eyes trained on Derek. It occurred to him that the blood he was covered in had to belong to _someone_. His bare feet slid on the slick stone as he stood, toes squelching in the blood. He had to force down the bile rising in his throat when his heel came into contact with something decidedly head like. Steeling his will, he took in the scene around him. The two guards who had been preparing to inject him with wolfsbane were sprawled across the floor. Very… headless. Maybe Kira was a little more terrifying than he’d initially thought.

He knew he liked her for a reason.

On the other end of the room, The Council remained speechless. Kira strode calmly out of the same hall Lydia had emerged from, laying a hand at the back of Lydia’s neck. Lydia did the same, both whispering what sounded like ‘love you’s’ before turning to face The Council.

“Alpha McCall sends his regards,” Kira chirped, and Derek could just picture her grain. “And if we aren’t back in,” she paused dramatically, glancing at the watch on her wrist. “Fifteen minutes, Alpha McCall, two more werewolves, a werecoyote and a very _angry_ emissary will be joining this little party.” The one who appeared to be in charge, Derek couldn’t for the life of him remember his name, nodded once.

“Ms. Martin has indeed upheld her end of the bargain.” His voice was solemn, the smug grin from earlier nowhere to be found. “And we will honor the deal.”

Lydia turned towards him then, and his world seemed to narrow to her face alone. She ran to him, launching herself over the mountain ash line and into his arms. He caught her easily, burying his face in the curve of her neck and breathing in that familiar scent of honeysuckle, pack and ink. She didn’t seem to care that he was covered in blood, her fingers tangled in his hair as she pressed kisses to his forehead and ears. He pulled back to say something, _anything_ , but she moved before he could, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both desperate and chaste at the same time.

“Come on, we gotta go.” Kira’s voice stopped Derek from doing anything stupid, like pressing Lydia against the blood splattered walls and making her his. They needed to do this like adults, without the influence of adrenaline and the fear of almost dying. Lydia slid to her feet, primly adjusting her skirt before breaking the mountain ash line with her toe. Kira strode across the line, yanking her katana from the wall in a frankly awesome display of strength.

“Come on Der, let’s go.” Lydia ordered, pushing what looked to be the towel he was taken in into his arms. Obeying, he wrapped it around his hips, trying not to think about the bloody footprints he was tracking as he followed the girls through the tunnels.

“Hey, hey,” he panted, leaning against the wall when they finally stopped _running_. He felt ridiculous, racing after two completely bad ass teenaged girls with nothing but a towel on. “What was that thing you guys did in there? With the necks and the foreheads?” The girls looked at each other, shrugging.

“You should tell him,” Kira smirked as Lydia rolled her eyes. She turned to him anyways, reaching up and wrapping one hand around the back of his neck.

“It’s a ritual we do, we actually started it after Scott and Kira were taken by Kate last year.” It was so dark in the tunnel, he could only see the outline of her face as she spoke. “We do it before and after a fight, just in case.” He felt her fingers close around his wrist, lifting his hand to the back of her neck. Then she pulled him down until their foreheads bumped, her breath washing warm and heady across his lips. He wanted to chase it, to taste and claim. “We say this together. _Be brave, but not stupid_.” Derek could hear the smile in her voice, and he knew there had to be a story behind that one. “And then, you say whatever you want, knowing it could be your last words to your pack.”

“That’s… kind of gruesome.” Derek murmured. Kira shifted, her hand suddenly joining Lydia’s on his neck. They moved together in the dark, creating a triangle with their foreheads touching.

“Be brave but not stupid,” Derek caught up with the girls halfway through, trying not to feel incredibly cheesy.

“I love you both,” Kira whispered, her hand squeezing once on the back of his neck.

“I love you too Kir,” Lydia murmured. “And I love you, Der.” Her heart didn’t skip a beat, and Derek felt unbelievably overwhelmed. He knew it wasn’t necessarily romantic love, but it didn’t matter. For the first time in years he had a pack who loved him.

“I love you guys too,” he announced, dropping his arms to drag them both into a hug.

“Ugh no! You’re all gross!” Kira giggled, pushing away from him. Lydia laughed too, but Derek felt her squeeze him once more before releasing her grip.

“Come on,” she turned back down the tunnel. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

 

“It’s about fucking ti--- holy shit, what the hell happened?” Stiles’ eyes were the size of dinner plates, but Lydia didn’t really have a chance to respond before she was dragged from the fairy ring, still woozy as she was passed from pack member to pack member. “Derek. Buddy. You are _covered_ in blood dude. What the fuck?” Stiles continued to speak as Lydia settled into what she assumed to be Isaac’s arms.

“Kira chopped off some assholes’ heads.” She could hear the proud ring to Derek’s voice, warmth and fondness spreading through her veins like warm honey in response.

“Hey, it’s Friday, you guys wanna go bowling? We can do something normal for once.” Scott asked. A murmur of ascent rumbled through the pack, and Lydia finally found herself released from Isaac’s iron grip. “You too Der!” She could feel Derek’s eyes on her, the tug-tug on her spine still there and growing stronger.

“Sure,” Derek answered Scott, eyes focused intently on her face. “I just need to go clean up.” He paused, swallowing in what looked like a nervous tick.

‘We’ll meet you guys there,” Lydia offered, stepping forward to take Derek’s hand in hers. “I’ll drive you back to the loft.” She knew the entire pack was probably exchanging _looks_ behind her back, but she chose to ignore them in favor of leading Derek back towards her house.

The hike back was silent, their hands clasped comfortably between them. She grabbed a change of clothes at her house before climbing into her car and heading towards the loft. Derek was quiet beside her, still unbearably handsome even covered in coagulating blood. It was unfair, really.

“So…” she started simply to break the silence, the radio seeming inappropriate for the circumstances. Derek glanced at her, eyebrows rising towards his hairline.

“Can we wait to have this conversation until I’m not covered in other people’s blood and wearing only a towel?” Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed in mock exasperation.

“Wow, you’re awful demanding these days.”

“It’s a product of getting kidnapped every six months or so.”

She turned to find Derek smirking at her, his stupid bunny teeth peeking out from behind his upper lip. He was completely and utterly devastating. Lydia had never met a man that could make her stomach drop just from _looking_ at his face. And then there was Derek.

“You’re not funny,” she grumbled, forcing herself to look away and focus on the road.

“I can hear you lying, you know.” Derek’s tone was light, teasing, and Lydia didn’t bother to look at him, just flipping him off with her right hand. There was a huff of amusement from the passenger side of the car, but for the rest of the drive to the loft, they rode in easy silence.

Lydia followed him up the stairs to the loft, trying not to stare at his towel clad ass and failing rather spectacularly. Whatever. It was his own fault for running around in a towel.

“I’m just gonna um, shower quick…” Derek paused outside the bathroom door, suddenly awkward. Lydia smirked and stepped towards him, hooking her hands around his neck and dragging him down into a slow kiss. He was bloody and gross and starting to smell, but the low groan that slipped through his lips made it worth it.

“Want some help?” Derek’s breath hitched in response, his lips ghosting across her jaw and down her neck.

“No.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but his hands tightened on her waist, carefully pushing her back. “No, Lydia.” The rejection stung, and she fought the urge to storm off, to hide until she could get herself under control. The only thing keeping her there was the desperation in Derek’s voice and the terrified openness of his expression. “I want… I need to really talk about this with you. Please. Just let me get cleaned up. Please don’t leave.” The unspoken _everybody leaves_ hung in the air between them. Lydia nodded solemnly, brushing the back of her hand across his cheek. She couldn’t refuse him, not in this vulnerable state, and not with the constant pull of their connection as if he was fighting to stay in control.

“Okay,” she whispered, letting her hands fall to cover his at her waist. “I’ll be here.” Derek smiled, this tiny little wobbly thing, and her heart just _broke_. Lydia had never fancied herself the nurturing type, she wasn’t a caregiver, not like Scott and Kira were. But she wanted to take care of Derek, or at the very least, give him an environment in which he felt _safe_. She wasn’t going to be his mother, cooking and cleaning and picking up after him, she didn’t want to care for his body. She just wanted to protect his heart.

“Thanks princess.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, pulling gently away and slipping into the bathroom. Lydia let him go, standing on the other side of the door for a few moments in attempt to get her bearings.

She forced herself to go to the kitchen, splashing her face with cold water. It didn’t really do anything except kind of piss her off, but at least she wasn’t still stuck in the haze induced by Derek’s lips. She liked the way they fit together, the contradictions of their bodies matching up like puzzle pieces. Every little bit she got wasn’t nearly enough, she needed more. More tongue, more teeth, more _skin_. And Derek… Derek wasn’t giving it.

She was waiting for him, pouting angrily on his bed, when he finally emerged for the bathroom with a billow of steam. It wasn’t really fair, the dampness of his hair and the way his shirt clung to his not quite dry enough skin. And he smelled so good when he sat beside her, the mattress dipping and sending her sliding against him.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling her gently into his lap and sliding them both back until he leaned against the headboard. Lydia allowed him to manhandle her, her knees coming to rest on either side of his thighs, his face buried in the crook of her neck. She pushed her fingers into his wet hair, tugging until he tilted his head back, allowing her to kiss him slow and hot. His lips parted beneath hers when he groaned, their tongues sliding together as he pulled her impossibly closer. Lydia sighed into it, letting out her own surprised moan when his teeth closed around her bottom lip, the slight pain sending searing desire down to the base of her spine.  His tongue soothed the bite, licking across her lips and then back into her mouth, _claiming_.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” she half panted, leaning her forehead against his. Derek nodded, his fingers flexing against her hips.

“I did. I do.” She waited for him to speak, trying valiantly not to start this whole physical thing back up again. When he didn’t say anything, she forced one eye open.

“Do you want me to move?”

“No, no, just,” he sighed and leaned back a little, helping her sit between his legs, her own legs looped around his hips. “Lydia, I… I don’t think we should do this.” He started, motioning between the two of them. _Hurt_ stabbed through her, a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead. She forced it back with anger, her hands clenching into fists.

“How can you-”

“Please, let me say my piece. You can hate me after.” Derek sounded so broken, so sure that she would hate him. No matter how _angry_ she got, Lydia was pretty sure she could never hate him. “I just… Lydia, I _need_ you now. And I can’t… It’s just that sex and relationships never seem to bode well for me. In fact, they tend to end in death. And you’re going away to college, and I don’t want you to be tied down to me. You should be able to live your life.” He sighed, his fingers tracing slow circles across her knuckles.

“It’s my choice too Derek. You’re not the only one involved here.”

“I know that,” he sighed again, his eyes a deep mossy green as he looked up at her through his lashes. “What I’m trying to say is that we should wait. We should be friends, get to know each other better. I tend to jump headfirst into relationships, and I would be _devastated_ if anything bad were to happen between us. And I tend to screw up pretty bad. I don’t think you could anchor me if you weren’t a part of my life.” He paused, staring at their now intertwined hands resting between them. “It’s just… We could try the long distance thing, if you really wanted too. But I already know… What would happen when we got in a fight, and you’re six hours away? There’s no way to fix it then. I just… I don’t know how to explain it any better.”

Lydia blinked back tears, swallowing down the lump in her throat and pushing her face into the crook of Derek’s neck. His arms wrapped around her automatically, big hands rubbing soothing circles across her back. She hated it. Hated that he was right, hated that he made her want this, hated that she couldn’t have it, not yet.

“I don’t really like it,” she mumbled against his neck. “But I know you’re right.” Derek huffed beneath her, his eyelashes brushing her ear as he tucked his own face against her neck. Lydia went absolutely boneless, just allowing herself to be held. Derek was big and warm and soft, and as clichéd as it was, she felt safe with him, even if she knew better (Derek _did_ get hurt more than anyone else she’d ever met). “And the last thing I’d ever want is to hurt you.” She felt Derek tremble, his throat clicking as he swallowed.

For the first time, Lydia tried pulling _back_ on the string, attempting to tug on Derek’s subconscious. He jolted upright, a surprised gasp slipping between his lips. Lydia grinned, watching as he glanced down at him stomach as if expecting to see a string there. “Can you feel that?” She asked, pulling again, this time more gently. Derek stared at her with wide eyes. “I’ve been feeling it since this morning. I think… I don’t know if it’s because I’m a banshee or what, but it’s definitely our connection.” Derek’s lips lifted into a rare smile at that, and Lydia didn’t even care that her heart tripped over itself in response. She lifted her hands to cup his cheeks, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Listen to me, I _never_ want to find out what it feels like when that connection breaks.” She blinked at him, waiting for comprehension to wash across his features. “Do you understand?” His eyes flickered across her face, a hypnotic mix of green and blue and gray and gold that made her skin tingle with electric want. She forced it back, trying to focus. Derek nodded, reaching up to cover her hands with his.

“I gotcha princess.” His lips curled into a smirk as she narrowed her eyes.

“I will come up with a nickname for you, and you will _hate_ it.” She hissed, unable to stop herself from smiling. “Let’s go so I can kick your wolfie ass at bowling.” Derek rolled his eyes but followed her off the bed, slipping his feet into a pair of beat up sneakers and leading her towards the door. “Wait.” Lydia grabbed a fist full of his shirt, yanking at it until her turned to face her. “Just…” She slid her hands up his chest, trying to memorize the feel of the muscle beneath her fingers, the smooth skin of his neck. “Just, one more time. To remember.”

Derek blinked at her, and then suddenly she was pressed up against the door, one big hand curled around the back of her head, his lips warm and frantic against her own. Lydia moaned shamelessly, hitching her leg up towards his hip until he caught on, hooking an arm around her waist and dragging her up. He pulled back too soon, brushing his nose against hers. Lydia arched towards him, chasing his lips with her own. After a tiny huff of laughter he complied, this kiss gentle and sweet, lingering with tiny bites and little kitten licks against her lips.

Her throat felt tight again, and suddenly she wanted to cry, she wanted to scream and punch and kick. She just wanted to have him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Derek whispered, wiping away the lone tear dripping down her cheek with his thumb. “One day,” he swallowed hard, brushing his nose against hers again. “One day we will rule the world, okay?” Lydia screwed her eyes shut but nodded, burying her face in his chest. He stepped back from the door, holding her easily in his arms as he rubbed her back. “Come on princess,” He set her carefully on her feet, his lips curling into a smirk. “I believe there was some talk about an ass kicking coming my way?” Lydia choked out a laugh, brushing away any remaining tears.

“Yeah yeah wolfman,” she grinned, reaching to clasp his hand. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood/Gore Warning: Basically a couple of enemies get their heads sliced off. I do not describe the action itself, but Derek does end up covered in blood and experiences a little discomfort due to the beheaded bodies around him. I'm probably kind of making it sound worse than it actually is, but if this kind of stuff bothers you and you want to skip this chapter, I totally understand. (You can definitely read the last section though, after the second page break)
> 
> Ummm... so don't kill me guys! I know this isn't exactly what we wanted, BUT I think it's what they both needed. HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS BUILT ON FRIENDSHIP AND TRUST ARE VERY IMPORTANT TO ME OKAY. And I promise that I will make it all better in the next (and 95% sure, final) chapter.  
> So, I am still thinking about making a playlist for this, I have a bunch of songs picked out, and if anybody wanted to make or draw a cover art that would be super cool and I'd love you forever (seriously, I have 0 talent with art and graphics, but I am obsessed with everything all the other talented people in this fandom do).  
> BUT THANKS FOR READING GUYS! YOU ARE THE BEST.
> 
> XOXO - Beth  
> (also, how about the new episode last night? I might have cried and I already miss Derek terribly. Sigh. It was still really really good though. Liam is my new fave. I AM ALREADY PANICKING ABOUT TONIGHT. If you want to come yell with me during the episode, i'll be live blogging on [tumblr](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com))


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - HOT SEX AHEAD

**Three Years Later**

 

“So Lydia,” Lydia glared over the top of her laptop at the blonde haired, leanly muscled guy lounging in her desk chair. “Any chance you want to go on a date with me tonight?” She rolled her eyes, preparing herself to turn him down. Again.

“Mike you complete dumbass,” her roommate Jose yelled from his bedroom across the hall. “How many times does she have to tell you she doesn’t fucking date?!” Mike groaned good naturedly, spinning himself lazily with one foot.

“But whyyyyy,” he whined, head tilted back to expose his tan, muscled neck.

“At this point it’s because you’re really fucking annoying.” Lydia grumbled, tapping her chin as she searched through CMC’s online scientific journal database.

“And she’s pining for her fucking GQ model back in Beacon Hills!” Jose yelledback, breaking into a giggling fit when Lydia threw a pillow in the direction of his room,

“I’m not pining,” she denied under her breath, at the same time as Mike glared at the corkboard hanging on her wall.

“You sure you didn’t hire him to take these pictures? Are people even this fucking shredded in real life?” Lydia sighed, eyes lighting up when an incoming Skype call appeared in the corner of her screen. Her heart skipped a beat, tripping over itself in excitement as Jose started cracking up in his room. Lydia hated werewolves. She really, really did.

“Hey Der-Bear,” she answered the call with a soft smile, ignoring Jose’s exaggerated gagging noises as Derek’s face appeared on her screen.

“Princess,” Derek smiled, that little private smile that made heat coil low in her stomach.

“I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Mike announced moodily, practically slouching out of her room. Lydia waved after him absently, not at all ashamed that she’d kind of forgotten he was even there. She held back a smirk at the noticeably jealous furrow to Derek’s brows.

“Who was that?” He was trying to come off as nonchalant and was failing _miserably_.

“My lab partner Mike,” she explained. “He’s pissed that I turned him down. Again.” Derek’s frown deepened, his eyes flashing.

“Lydia is he giving you trouble?” Lydia shook her head, curls swinging around her face. “Then why aren’t you going out with him?” Lydia shrugged and leaned back against her pillows, twirling a lock of hair around her forefinger.

“I gave him the chance freshman year, but I made him choose between hooking up once or being friends.” She shrugged again. “He chose friends but seems to think he can convince me to date him too.” Derek ducked his head, smiling fondly at the keyboard. Lydia felt it like a punch to the gut, wanting nothing more than to reach through the screen and trace a finger across his lips, to push her hands through that stupid hair.

“So what’s up Der?” She asked, trying to cover up her angst with cheeriness.

“Oh um,” he turned away, looking at something off camera. The tendons of his neck flexed, and she fought back a full body tremble at the idea of biting and licking and watching her mark heal in seconds. “Shut the fuck up Isaac, no one asked you. Pain in my ass from day one,” he grumbled to Lydia as he turned back around. “Anyways, I uh just wanted to check in, make sure you and Jose were doing okay.”

“Big D!!!” Jose yelled from his room, laughing loudly. Judging by the way Derek’s eyes crinkled in the corners, he could hear him loud and clear.

“We already have two alphas checking in on us constantly Der,” Lydia teased. “You don’t have to too.” She laughed and closed her eyes, focusing on their connection, pulling at it until Derek tugged back. When she opened her eyes, he was smiling at her, his eyes glittering opalescent green-blue. Then he tilted his head as if listening to something in the distance.

“Hey, Isaac’s got dinner ready, text me later, okay?” He murmured, hand hovering as if he wanted to stroke the screen.

“Kay, give Isaac a kiss for me.” Derek’s lips twitched, and she knew he was thinking of that pool party all those years ago. “And I love you Wolfman.”

“Love you too princess,” he grinned once more, and then the screen went black.

Lydia sighed and rolled off her bed, wandering over to stand in front of her corkboard. She fingered the curling edges of the photos, remembering. One of her on Isaac’s shoulders, both screaming as Scott (with Kira on his shoulders) splashed them with one hand and wielded the end of a garden hose with the other. One of her and Derek, curled up together on the old couch in the loft, fast asleep with crude Sharpie drawings all over their faces. One from senior prom, all the werewolves wearing sunglasses to block the eye flare, all six seniors posing in the Yukimura’s front yard. Isaac and Lydia have their arms around each other. Lydia in her cap and gown with her mom. Lydia and Stiles, clearly intoxicated, his arm slung over her shoulders, brown bottle dangling from his fingers with their heads thrown back in goofy laughter. And Lydia’s personal favorite, she and Derek leaning against the hood of the Camaro (yes, it still exists), arms crossed and smirking, pressed together from shoulder to knee. They’d been watching Stiles and Isaac argue about the _correct_ method for capturing pixies.

“You really should just date the guy.” Lydia had spent too much time around werewolves to even flinch at their silent entrances any more.

“Who Mike?” She played dumb, her eyes now caught on the fading photo of her and Allison.

“No.” Jose rolled his eyes and jabbed his finger at the picture of her and Derek. “This smoldering hunk of man meat.” Lydia sighed and flopped face first onto her bed.

“I’ve explained this to you already. We decided-”

“You two are idiots!” Jose snapped, slapping what felt like a stack of paper against her butt. “Lucky for you, I’m here to save your sorry ass.” Lydia kicked at him but rolled over, frowning at the papers he waved in front of her face. “I’ll save you the trouble of reading.” Jose grinned, his chocolate eyes sparkling. “ _This_ would be a flight from here to Sacramento leaving in two hours. And _this_ is the receipt for the rental car that’ll be waiting for you… So you better get moving.” Lydia blinked at him, once, twice, three times, before scrambling to her feet.

“Jose Gonzalez,” she smacked his arm. “You meddling son of a bitch I love you so much right now!” She threw her arms around him, laughing almost hysterically. She was going home.

* * *

 

“Isaac. What are you doing?” Lydia sat in the rental car, fingernails tapping nervously at the wheel. She had pulled over just outside of Beacon Hills, suddenly anxious about just flying back into town like a bat out of hell.

“I’m at home.” She could hear the grin in Isaac’s voice, knew he was messing with her. On purpose. Because he’s a jerk. _Home_ meant Derek’s house, the one he’d built with his own two hands, nestled in the forest on the opposite side of the Hale property. Yes. Derek Hale, Building things. Complete with tight tank tops and blue jeans and fucking utility belts slung low on his hips. Lydia only knew this because Isaac was a dick who liked to take pictures of Derek and send them to her. God she ~~loved~~ hated him sometimes.

“Thanks Isaac. That’s super helpful.” She snarled into the phone. “Can you please relocate yourself so that I can speak with you privately?” Isaac sighed in a put upon manner, but she could hear the clunking of his boots as he climbed the stairs and then the click of a door closing.

“Alright bossy pants, what’s up?”

“I um,” she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “I can’t believe I’m asking _you_ this but… Is Derek, you know, seeing anybody?” There was silence for a couple of beats, and then Isaac burst into hysterical laughter. “Isaac!” She groaned. “I’m being serious here!”

“So am I, oh my god!” he wheezed, giggling again. “Oh man, what are _you_ doing anyways? Where are you?” Lydia didn’t answer. Isaac may have made light of her concerns, but still… She knew Derek had dated a couple of people during the last three years, and pretty much the whole town knew he and Braeden were hooking up when she’d last blown through town (blown. Hah. Lydia would’ve thought Derek getting arrested for public indecency was funny if she wasn’t so damn jealous. And she knew she had no right to be, it wasn’t like she’d been celibate since high school. She had fucking needs dammit). “Oh my god, you’re here aren’t you?”

“Isaac.”

“Derek’s home, don’t worry.” There was another giggle. “Oh man, I’m gonna get some popcorn ready.”

“Isaac, wait, no--” she glared at the **call ended** message flashing across her screen. “Ass hole.”

Taking a deep breath, she started the car and pulled back onto the road. She could do this.

There were cars parked in Derek’s driveway when she pulled in, and she immediately started to panic. Oh God. What if… what if Isaac was wrong, what if Derek was dating someone and they were doing something grown up like hosting a dinner party or something fucking dumb? It took her a moment to calm down enough to recognize Isaac’s Subaru and Jordan’s Harley and the new truck the Sheriff was driving now. Which… this situation wasn’t necessarily any _better_.

But she was Lydia Fucking Martin. She could handle this. Stepping out of the car, she fluffed her hair, straightened her skirt and steeled her nerve.

It was now or never.

She marched up the front steps, not even bothering to knock. They had to have heard her heartbeat by now anyways. She swept into the house like she owned the place, narrowing her eyes at the clearly amused Isaac (popcorn in hand, as promised) before they settled on a stunned looking Derek.

“Lydia? What are you-”

“Lyds!!!” There was a blur of motion from the kitchen, two arms grabbing her in a hug and hauling her with superhuman speed up to one of the sound proofed bedroom and depositing her on the bed.

“Scott McCall.” Lydia huffed. “That is no way to--” Her alpha ducked and kissed her square on the mouth, eyes glittering with laughter when he pulled back.

“Lydia, I’m so happy to see you!”

“I can see that,” she laughed, pulling him in for a warm hug. “What’s up oh alpha of mine?” Scott grinned as he flopped onto the bed beside her.

‘Look what I got.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out a black velvet box. “I um, for Kira, you should look at it.” He pushed the box into her hands. “I mean, I think it’s okay, but you’re the only one who I can like ask about this and…” Lydia blocked out his babbling, a gasp slipping between her lips as she cracked open the box.

“Scott,” she whispered, pulling him into another hug. “You did so good sweetie.”

“Yeah?” He asked, running the pad of his thumb over the glittering princess cut diamond, set on a gold band. “You think she’ll say yes?” Lydia grinned and ruffled his hair.

“Of course you idiot. Now can you please return me to the living room now? I came here with a purpose.” Scott froze, his eyes going wide.

“OH MY GOD. Are you _finally_ making a move on lil’ Der?”

“Oh my god,” Lydia groaned, her voice hitching into a squeal when Scott basically threw her over his shoulder.

“Is this why Isaac started popping popcorn like ten minutes ago?” Scott chuckled as he walked with her slung over his shoulder out into the hallway. “He’s such an ass.”

“You’re telling me.” Lydia grumbled, letting herself just kind of hang there as Scott started down the stairs. He stopped about halfway down, carefully setting her on her feet.

“You probably don’t want to have this conversation in front of all the guys, I’m assuming.” he explained when she raised a questioning eyebrow.

“What’s going on?” Derek appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his brow furrowed with concern. Scott winked at Lydia and leapt clear over the railing, landing on all fours in the living room below. Derek glared at him, but Lydia ignored it, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling him back up the stairs. (She also ignored Jordan and Isaac’s obnoxious _oooooooh_ -ing. What were they, twelve?). “Lydia?” She tugged him into his bedroom, releasing her grip on his shirt to close and carefully lock the door behind them. “What’s happening?”

Instead of answering she crowded up against him, smirking as he stepped back slightly, until she pushed him hard onto the bed. Or, Derek _let_ her push him onto the bed. He still looked confused, holding himself up on his elbows, but the concern was gone. Lydia took a moment to really _look_ at him, his long legs clad in tight black jeans, splayed just on this side of seductive. His t-shirt was light blue and thin, stretching tight across his chest and arms and making his eyes look like jewels. He’d shaved probably only hours ago, looking years younger than he had when she’d been skyping with him in her dorm. His hair was at that perfect length, long enough to style, but not yet curling around his ears. Her body was already humming with need, the electrical currents buzzing beneath her skin. “You gonna talk to me princess or just stare at me all day?” Derek was smirking at her, but his smugness slipped when her lips curled into what she imagined was a predatory grin. Stepping forward she hopped onto his lap, straddling his thighs and letting her hands slide slowly up his abs to rest on his chest. She could feel the heat of his skin through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, his heart beating fast under her palm.

“Derek,” his name fell from her lips, her lashes fluttering as she leaned closer, brushing her nose against his. “I’m tired of waiting.” She kissed him then, for the first time in three years, her hands sliding up to cradle his head, fingers curling through his impossibly soft hair. Derek whined like he was dying, his hands pulling her with him as he collapsed back onto the bed. She tugged his bottom lip between her teeth, grinning when he growled low in his chest and flipped them. His heavy weight on top of her felt good, too good, and she arched against him, laughing breathlessly when he pinned her wrists above her head.

“Just give me a second.” He growled, eyes flashing blue before he pressed his face to her neck. Lydia titled her head back, eyelids fluttering as he dragged his nose up the column of her throat, then followed the same path with tongue. She twisted her wrists free and clutched at his hair, whimpering when he began to suck bruising kisses against the sensitive spot below her ear. His hips rolled against her, sending a shiver through her at the hard lines of his arousal.

“Fuck Der, come on,” she begged, scrabbling at the back of his shirt in an attempt to pull it off. Derek ignored her, pulling at the collar of her blouse, licking and biting across her collarbones, sending heat shooting down her spine. “Derek!” She whined this time, pushing at his chest until he sat up, panting with his pupils blown so wide she could barely make out a thing ring of blue.

“What?” He huffed, as if he was going to be pissed that she stopped him.

“Take off your fucking clothes asshole,” Lydia ordered, narrowing her eyes when he grinned and sat back on his heels.

“I dunno princess,” one big hand curled around her ankle, inching its way slowly up her calf. “Maybe we should talk about it first.”

“Oh no,” Lydia hissed, scrambling off the bed. “We’ve done more than enough talking.” She grabbed his arm and pulled, glaring at him until he stood.

“What are you going to… fuck Lyds,” he groaned, hands gently cupping her face as she dropped to her knees. She stared up at him from under her lashes, biting her lip as she popped the button on his jeans.

“Take off your shirt Der,” she ordered, her hands sliding slowly up Derek’s muscled, jean-clad thighs, leaning in and mouthing at the outline of his erection. In the blink of an eyes his shirt was gone, giving her an eyeful of the rippling torso that may or may not have starred in all of her masturbatory fantasies. “Good boy.” Derek’s dick twitched in his jeans, and she grinned. She could totally work with _that_. His eyes were flickering between beta blue and mossy green when she met them, his nostrils flared and his lips parted. He was already wrecked, the sight making heat pool between her thighs. She pulled his fly down painfully slow, before moving on to leisurely pull his jeans down over his hips. The leaking tip of his cock peeked out over the waistband of his sinfully tight black briefs, her mouth watering as she swallowed hard. “Put your hands on my head,” she murmured, hooking her thumbs in the elastic waistband and sliding his briefs down. Derek’s fingers trembled as he curled one hand around the back of her neck, the other brushing her hair from her face. For the beginnings of a blow job, it was unbearably tender.

Lydia wrapped her hand around his cock, holding it up towards his stomach as she traced the pulsing vein that ran along the bottom all the way to the head with her tongue, eye lashes fluttering.

“Lydiaaaa,” Derek groaned above her, his fingers tightening and loosening around her neck sporadically. She smirked before taking him into her mouth, looking up into his eyes through her lashes. Derek’s entire body trembled and his hips jerked, pushing his cock against the back of her throat. Lydia gagged on reflex, Derek immediately tried to pull away and apologize, but she tightened her grip on his hips and relaxed her jaw, sinking deeper with a low moan.

“Oh my God,” Derek groaned as she pulled off with a dirty pop, a strand of saliva clinging to her bottom lip. She smirked up at him and then took him back into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip and jacking the base with her list. Derek swore and threw his head back, hips jerking in tiny abortive thrusts, his thumb pressed to the corner of her lips. She massaged his balls, pride swelling when his hips stuttered. “Fuck okay, come on, come on.” His hands clamped around her upper arms and dragged her to her feet. “Clothes. Off. Now.” She didn’t even have a chance before there was the sound of cloth ripping, her blouse and skirt fluttering in the floor.

“Derek!” She admonished. “I’m going to be so pissed at you about this la-” His lips closed over hers, tongue plunging into her mouth, hot and possessive. Lydia wrapped her arms around his shoulders, moaning when he lifted her up, legs wrapping around his waist. His chest vibrated with a low growl, lips never leaving hers as he kicked his jeans and boxers off and settled her gently on his bed.

She let her fingers wander, exploring the broad expanse of warm muscled skin that she could finally _touch_. Derek sighed into her mouth, kisses slowing down to lazy caresses, his lips dragging across her jaw, down her neck.

“Fuck Der,” she arched off the bed, Derek’s deft fingers slipping behind her back and unhooking her bra. He threw it over his shoulder, and Lydia laughed when it landed on the ceiling fan.

“God, I love your laugh,” he panted, capturing her lips again, tongue slipping against hers slow and hot. He cupped her breasts in his hands, thumbs ghosting across her nipples until they peaked. Ducking his head, he sucked a pert nipple into his mouth, pinching the other between his fingers. Lydia cried out when he bit down, grinding against his thigh shamelessly.

“Come on Der, I need… I need… come on!” He trailed kisses down her stomach, tongue swirling around her belly button.

“What do you need princess?” His voice rumbled against her skin, sending pleasant vibrations straight to her core. She whined and squirmed, meeting his eyes as they looked up her body at her. It was unfair really, the way he looked right now, like he stepped right off a soft core porn set. HIs hair was mussed from his fingers, his lips wet and red and kiss swollen, his damn eyes dark and absolutely smoldering. Lydia had been with a lot of guys, a lot of good looking guys, but Derek was just… special.

“Your mouth.” She managed to choke out, pushing her hips up against him. Derek just swore under his breath, pressing his nose to her undoubtedly soaked panties. He slid them down her thighs almost reverently, before leaning over and licking a broad stripe across her folds. Lydia threw her head back against the pillows, tangling her fingers back in his hair. It was so good but too good at the same time, her legs and hips twitching without permission. The things he was doing with his tongue should be illegal, and it only got worse when he hooked her legs over his shoulder and sat up, dragging her bottom half up off the bed. She knew she was whimpering and probably squeezing his head too hard between her thighs, but Derek didn’t seem to mind. Not wanting to miss this, she forced her eyes open, only to find Derek watching her, the thin ring of his irises visible around his pupils glowing bright blue.

“You like that huh baby?” He asked, voice low and husky and lips shining with her juices.

“Yeah, fuck, don’t stop, God,” she panted, trying to force his mouth back to her. He grinned at her, flicking his tongue out against her clit, looking almost annoyingly proud when her entire body jerked. Everything just seemed like _more_ than usual she realized as he pushed one finger inside her, fucking her with it a few times before adding another. It took her a few minutes to recognize the pull of their connection, vibrating with pleasure and want and getting tighter and tighter. “Fuck me, come on,” she demanded, squirming against him. “I needed you inside me like yesterday!” Derek actually laughed, light and beautiful and Lydia fell a little bit more in love with him. He lowered her back to the bed, reaching for the bedside table and yanking on the draw, fumbling with an unopened (thankfully) box of condoms.

“I want you to ride me.” He said hoarsely, handing her the box and turning to lean against the head board. Lydia tried to hide the fact that her hands were trembling as she struggled with the box, finally just ripping it open and watching the strips of foil packets spill out onto the bed. But Derek laughed along with her as she tore one off and ripped open the foil, rolling it on him leaking cock with practiced ease.

“We probably don’t even need that fucking thing,” she complained as she crawled over him, running her hands across his abs and sucking hickeys (that faded instantly) on his neck.

“Pretty sure werewolf sperm doesn’t care about birth control,” Derek replied before tugging on her chin, licking into her mouth as she lowly lowered herself onto him. They both groaned when she bottomed out, feeling stretched and full and a little overwhelmed with Derek’s face so close to hers. She waited a few moments, kissing him slow and languid until she got used to the stretch.

“Okay, okay, fuck, come on Derek,” she hissed, moaning when he wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her fuck herself on him while simultaneously thrusting up to meet her. She knew she wasn’t going to last long, not with his thumb circling her clit, and his cock fucking her hard and deep and his lips sucking and biting at her neck. Their connection felt like it was buzzing now, white hot pleasure building at the base of her spine. Her vision was beginning to blur around the edges, the room silent except for the slapping of skin on skin and their breathy moans. “Der, do you feel that?” She motioned to the space between their stomach, where the invisible string connecting them seemed to be getting tighter and tighter.

“Yeah,” Derek sighed almost dreamily, just staring into her eyes. She couldn’t help but grab his face and kiss him, frantic and hard and absolutely filthy. Derek slammed up into her once, twice, three times, and then their connection seemed to burst, sending Lydia right over the edge. She knew she cried out, but then there was just _Derek_ , trembling beneath her as his cock pulsed inside her. Lydia collapsed against his chest, still shaking from the aftershocks of her orgasm, whining when his dick slowly slipped out of her. His hands were on her face, angling it so he could kiss her, slow and tender and unhurried. She moaned and pushed herself up on shaking arms, shifting until their bodies fit comfortably together.

“That was…”

“Perfect.” Derek finished for her, his fingers tracing designs up and down her spine. Lydia smiled and kissed him again, unbelievably happy and a little loopy. Coming home had probably been the best decision she ever made.

Of course, Isaac Lahey had to ruin things in his usual way. By pounding on the door, and probably yelling. But they couldn’t hear him and he couldn’t hear them due to sound proofing, and Lydia had no way of knowing for sure that it was him… but no one else would be this annoying.

“We should probably go back downstairs,” Derek suggested, combing his fingers through her now tangled hair.

“Ugh no.” She snuggled closer to him in an attempt to hold him down. Of course, this was ineffective, and he slipped out from beneath her. ”Come backkkkk!” He raised his eyebrows at her as he carefully removed the condom, tying the end and tossing it in the trash.

“Princess, I have guests… I can’t just hide in my room having sex the whole time. Even if it’s with the love of my life.” He made his way over to his dresser, digging around in the drawers.

“I’m the love of your life?” She asked, staring shamelessly at his firm ass and the tattoo on his broad shoulders, the triskelion now surrounded with two thick black circles. She watched as his ears turned pink, but he didn’t deny it as he pulled on a pair of sweats.

“Of course,” he whispered finally, tossing a pair of shorts and a Henley at her. Lydia ducked her head and smiled at her hands, twisting in her lap. Yeah, today was a good day.

Derek crawled back onto the bed with her, kissing her thighs, her stomach, her shoulders, her cheeks, then finally her lips.

“The sooner we go down there, the sooner they’ll leave and we’ll be able to come back up here and go again,” he whispered into her ear, sucking _another_ hickey just under the corner of her jaw. She wouldn’t be able to hide that one, but she was pretty sure he did it on purpose.

“Oh fine.” Lydia huffed, climbing off the bed and yanking on the clothes Derek had given her. The shirt hung almost to her knees, and the shorts had to be rolled several times at the waist and they still wouldn’t stay up, but Derek was looking at her like he was going to push her up against a wall and kiss her senseless any second now. “Well let’s go then.” She smirked at him over her shoulder, reaching back for his hand.

They made their way downstairs with their fingers intertwined, following the sound of voices back into the living room. The Sheriff and Parrish were sitting in armchairs, beer bottles littering the end table between them. Isaac, Malia and Scott were sprawled across one of the couches, Isaac’s popcorn now split into three smaller, individual bowls. More alarming was the yelling coming from the TV.

“Why is Stiles’ face on the TV?” Lydia asked, allowing Derek to pull her onto his lap on the second couch.

“Aw Lyds, couldn’t you be a little more excited to see me?” Stiles asked from one quarter of the TV screen, as Kira waved from the one next to him, and Mason and Liam smirked (together) in the bottom half.

“Danny set it up for us last week,” Isaac explained around a mouthful of popcorn. “We put a camera on top of it, and now we can Skype through the TV.” It _was_ pretty cool, but Lydia was more concerned with the apparent pack meeting happening right now.

“So who won anyways?” Liam asked. Lydia narrowed her eyes. _They wouldn’t._

“I did!!!” Kira yelled, and it looked like she was dancing around her dorm room. The rest of the pack groaned loudly, and Parrish had the nerve to actually _glare_ at Lydia.

“You couldn’t have waited a couple of weeks?” He complained. “I was betting on May 17th.”

“Sucks to suck!” Kira giggled, her face flushed. “The Sheriff will be collecting the money thanks.” She grinned impossibly wider. “Don’t forget your cut Sheriff!”

“Dad was in on this!” Stiles squawked loudly, his hands blurring on the screen. The Sheriff just shrugged, looking all too pleased with himself for a man that was placing bets on the love lives of people twenty years his junior.

“I’m appalled with all of you.” Lydia sniffed, biting her lip to hold back a moan as Derek rubbed his face across the sensitive skin on her neck.

“Oh please,” Isaac scoffed from the couch. “It’s not like you wouldn’t have been in on it if it was anyone else.” Lydia had no response for that, too caught up in trying not to react to Derek’s lips on her skin and his fingers sneaking up beneath her shirt and his dick getting hard again beneath her ass. Across the room, Scott stiffened, his eyes going wide as his nostrils flared.

“You know what, we should all go… visit my mom!” He suggested, jumping to his feet and almost upending his bowl of popcorn. “Buy guys!” He waved at the TV and shut off the camera before turning and practically dragging Isaac and Malia out of the house, Jordan and the Sheriff hot on his heels.

“Scott’s my favorite.” Lydia muttered, twisting around until she straddled Derek’s thighs. “Ready to go again already?” When Derek looked up at her, his smirk sent a jolt of desire straight down her spine.

“I’m always ready for you princess.”

Lydia thought she’d probably be okay with him looking at her like that for the rest of her life.

She finally had her wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS! Thank you so much for reading! Sorry to end it so soon, but I just had this vision for this story so that's what we got. I HOPE THE SEX WAS OKAY (I always feel like it's awkward when I write it but whatever... I think I'm getting better idk). I'll probably be writing some one shhots... multi chapter stories are just kind of hard and exhausting. If you want to talk about ideas come see me on [tumblr](http://werewolvesandarrows.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Again, thanks so much for reading!
> 
> XOXO - Beth


End file.
